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Las diagrammes suivants iliustrent la mAthode. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 \' (iN Hvmm iiJv,; ■ ifVf «.-, ? \ ' M'^ \V!i Uli/U'It.VS '■ ^i ;■ V .'i i'llK FOREST !■>;-"*"'; ne Ai^.-H-i. ■■^Tax; rug i-Kur ^' i,-<^<.\N. 1853. 01(j639 NATIONAL MUSEUJf „ 's OF CANADA ■ :\\ ■■ _ 1 ' .-" - :.^^- fi^^- -v^ .^-^ V rV%« > ' ,/ „: . ■ ;...'4- .■*■■■• i^.-^ ,'«<. •:'", \' it?'. • I ^1 WESTERN SCENES AND KEMINISCENCES: TOOETHXa WITH niKILLING LEGENDS AND TRADITIONS or THI RED MEN OF THE FOREST. TO WniCH IS ADDED SEVERAL NARRATIVES OF ADVENTURES AMONG THE INDIANS. AUBURX : DERTIY Act i)f Congress, in the year 1851, by GEO. H. DERBY A CO., In the Clerk's Office of tlie District Court of the United States for the Northern District of Now York. ^ A '"' .'. .!•■'. .' • • • ' 1 t ' »• CONTENTS. FAOGS. Personal Rkmfniscences, 5 to 40 Scenes ami Adventures ill tlH> Ozark Mountiiins, ... 41 " ($3 Personal Incidents and Impressions of the Indian Rjice, . 04 " 77 Tales of a Wigwam — The White Stone Canoe, 79 « 81 The Lynx and the Hare — Fal)le from the Odjibwa-Algonqnin, 81 The Woi-ship of the Sun, an Ottowu Tradition, .... 82 " 84 Shingeljiss, 85 " 86 Wivsbaslias, or the Tribe that Grew out of a Shell, . . 95" 97 The Boy who set a Snare for the Sun, 97 " 99 AnipaUi Sai)a, or. The First Wife, 99 " 100 Mukakee Mindcmoea, or. Hie Toad Woman, .... 101 " 103 The Quadruped with the Hair blowi off its Skin, . . . 106 " 109 The Traditionary Story of Red Head and his Two Sons, 109 " 115 The Swing on tiie Lake Shore, . . . 116 " 117 Takozid,or.theShoit-Foot, 118 " 121 Maehinito, the Evil Spirit, by Mrs. E. Oakes Smith, . . V21 " 126 ITie Little Spirit, or Boy-Man, an Odjibwa Fairy Tale, . ivi": " 130 Aingodon and Naywadaha — story of a family of Nadowas, 13* " 133 The Rabid Wolf, a Village Tradition, 158 " 163 Moo wis, or the Man niiide up of Rags and Dirt, . . . 164 " 167 The Lone Lightning, an Odjibwa Tale, 168 Poetry — To Health, 183 The Bird, 63 " The Loon upon the Lake," 404 Odjibwa Song, 405 Niagara, an Allegory, 407 Traditionary Wai' Songs of tlie Odjibwa Algonquins, . . 410 " 416 '2.^5^^ 'IK- IV O N T E N T f. , Skktciiks of the T^ives of noteo Mku Mf.n and Women — VMitH. WiilHijwfi, or the Whito FisliiT, 1.'{4"'I4."> JJniiit, Jvotl Jacket, I'iK'iw, Miontoiiiiiio, 14(J " ir»7 CoiiCc-iHoiis of Catlu'riiK' Of^oo Wyaii Akwut Okwa, . . UW " 174 Aiidaiy Wi'os, or (Vows-Flesh, U»'J " ll>r> Earlv Indian ]>iorcst, 390 Mode of Writing an Indian Language, Languages of the Pacific Isliuids, Indian Musit^, Songs, and Poetry, 221 Geographical Terminology, from the Indian Language, Names of the Seasons, Chant to the Firefly, 230 A Psalm, or Supplietition for Mercy, &e., 408 " 40U " 288 " 398 145 398 " 229 304 " 308 308 Appendix — Narrative of the Captivity t)f Alexander Henry, Esq., Narrative of the C'aptivity of Frances Noble, . Narrative of the Captivity of Q\iintin Stockwell, Narrative of the Captivity i>f Peter Williamson, Narrative of the C'aptivity of Jonathan Carver, , Narrative of the Giptivity of Mrs. Scott, . . 417 " 402 403 " 469 470 " 478 479 " 487 488 " 493 494 " 495 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. It is now twenty-six years since I first entered the area of tlie Missis- si]i[)i vullcy, wiili the view of exploring its then but imjierfectly known I'Mtiiies, ^'I'o^'raphical and geological. Twenty-tw^o years of this period h.ivo tlnpsfd since I entered on the duties of an Executive Agent for the United St:ilos (lovernment in its higher northern hititades among the In- dian tri'irs in the west. Having devoted so large a portion of my life m nn active sphere, in which the intervals of travel left me favourable oppor- luiuties of pursuing the hnguiiges and history of this branch of the race, it appears to be a just expectation, that, in sitting down to give some account of this people, there should be some preliminary remarks, to ap- prise the render how and why it is, that his attention is recalled to a topic which he may have supposed to be well nigh exhausted. This it is pro- posed to do by some brief personal reminiscences, beginning at the time above alluded to. The year 1814 constituted a crisis, not only in our political historyi but also in our commercial, manufacturing, and industrial interests. The treaty of Ghent, which put a period to the war with England, was a blessing to many individuals and classes in America: but, in its conse- quences, it Imd no small share of the effects of a curse upon that class of citizens who were engaged in certain brunches of manufactures. It was a pecnliiH'ity of the crisis, that these persons had been stimulated by double motives, to invest their capital and skill in the perfecting and estab- lishment of the manufactories referred to, by the actual wants of the country and the high prices of the foreign articles. No pains and no cost had been spared, by many of them, to supply this demand ; and it was another result of the times, that no sooner had they got well established, and were in the high road of prosperity than the peace came and plunged them headlong from the pinnacle of success. This blow fell heavier upon some branches than others. It was most fatal to those manufacturers who had undertaken to produce fabrics of the highest order, or which belong to an advanced state of the manufacturing prosperity of a nation. Be this as it may, however, it fell withcrushingforce upon that branch in which I was engaged. As soon as the American ports were opened to these fabrics, the foreign makers who could undersell us, poured in cargo on cargo ; and when the first demands had been met, these cargoes were ordered to be sold at auction ; the prices immediately fell to the lowest point, and the men who had staked in one enterprise their zeal, skill and money, were ruined at a blow. Every man in such a crisis, must mentally recoil upon himself Ilibiti PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. of application, reading, and an early desire to bt useful, had sustained me at a prior period of life, through the dangers and fascinations of jovial company. There was in this habit or temper of room-seclusion, a pleas- ing resource of a conservative character, which had filled up the intervals of my busiest hours ; and when business itself came to a stand, it had the effect to nid me in balancing and poising my mind, while I pre- pared to enter a wider field, and indeed, to change my whole plan of life. If it did not foster a spirit of right thought and self-dependence, it, at least, gave a degree of tranquillity to the intervals of a marked pause, and, perhaps, flattered the ability to act. Luckily I was still young, and with good animal spirits, and a sound constitution I resolved I would not go down so. The resuh of seven years of strenuous e.vertions, applied with persevering diligence and suc- cess, wns cast to the winds, but it was seven years of a young man's life, and I thought it could be repaired by time and industry. What the east withheld, I hoped might be supplied by another quarter. I turned my thoughts to the west, and diligently read all I could find on the subject. The result of the war of 181'2, (if this contest had brought no golden showers on American manufacturers, as I could honestly testify in rnj' own case,) had opened to emigration and enterprise the great area west of the Alleghanies. The armies sent out to battle with Indian, and other foes, on the banks of the Wabash, the Illinois, the Detroit, the Raisin and the Miami of the Lalces, had opened to observation attractive scenes for settlement; and the sword was no sooner cast aside, than emi- grants seized hold of the axe and the plough. This result was worth the cost of the whole contest, honour and glory included. 'J'he total prostra- tion of the moneyed system of the country, the effects of city-lot and other land speculations, while the sy-strm was at its full flow, and the very backward seasons of 181Gand 1817, attended with late and early frosts, which extensively destroyed the corn crop in the Atlantic state?, all lent their aid in turning attention towards the west and south-west, where seven new states have been peopled and organized, within the hrirf period to which these remiiiiscenc(>s apply, namely, Indiana, Illinois, Mississippi, Missouri, Alabama, Arkansas and Michigan, besides the flourishing terri- tories of Wisconsin and Iowa, and the more slowly advancing territory of Florida. It appeared to me, that information, geographical and other, of such a wide and varied region, whose boundaries were but ill defined, must be interesting at such a period ; and I was not without the hope that the means of my future advancement would be found in connexion with the share I might take in the exy)loration of it. With such views I resolved to go west. This feeling I find to be expressed on the back of an old slip of an account of the period : " I will go by western fountain, I will wander far and wide ; PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 7 Till some sunny spot invite me, Till some guardian bid me bide. " Snow or tempest — plain the drearest Shall oppose a feoble bar, Since I go from friends the dearest, 'Tis no matter then how far. " On ! — 'tis useless here to dally ; On ! — I can but make or mar ; Since my fortune leads to sally, 'Tis no matter then how far." Of the " seven years" to which allusion has been made I had spent four in New England, a land which is endeared to me at this distance of time, by recollections of hospitality, virtue, and manly intelligence. While engaged in the direction of the business above named, I had pre- pared the notes and materials for my first publication, in which I aimed to demonstrate the importance uf an acqtiaintance with Chemistry and Mineraki',ry in the )ircp;i ration and fusion of numerous substances in the mineral kingdom, wliich result in the different conditions of the various glasses, enamels, «fcc. I had, from early youth, cultivated a taste for mineralogy, long indeed it may be said, before I knew that mineralogy v.'MS a science ; and, as opportunities increased, had been led by my in- quiries, (which I followed with ardour but with very slight helps,) to add to this some knowledge of elementary chemistry and experimental philos- ophy, and to supply myself, from Boston and New York, with books, apparatus, and tests. 1 do not know that there were any public lectures on nuiieralogy, &c. at this lime, say from 1810 to 'IG ; certainly, there were none within my reach. I gleaned from the best sources I could, and believe that the late Professor Frederick Hall was the only person to whom I was indebted even for occasional instructions in these depart- ments. Fie was a man strongly devoted to some of the natural sciences, particularly mineralogy ; and was erudite in the old authors on the sub- ject, whom he liked to quote ; and I may say that I continued (o enjoy his confidence and friendship to the time of his? death, which happened in 1843. From such sources, from the diligi'nt reading of hooks, and from experiments, conducted with the advantage of having under my charge extensive works, at various times, in iIk^ states of New York, Ver- mont and New Ilanipsliire, I drew the principles which formed the basis of my treatise on Vitreology. With this work in hand, I left Keene, in New Hampshire, early in the winter of 1817 ; and, crossing the Con- necticut river at Brattleboro,' proceeded over tho Green Mountains, bvthe route of Bennington, to Albany, and thence returned to my father's house in western New York-. No time was lost in issuing proposals for the work ; and I had the satisfaction to find that the portions published, and PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. I the entire plan and merits of it were warmly approved by the pen of the late Mr. Maynard of Utica, and by several liberal minded and intelligent persons. Before quitting New England, I had determined to go to the Mississippi valley, and had begun to study its geography ; and I now resolved to proceed, without unnecessary delay. Means constitute the first object of solicitude in all such undertakings. The ebbing tide of manufacturing prosperity to which I have referred, had left me very poor. From the fragments of former acquisitions, for which, however, I was exclusively indebted to my own industry, I raised a small ium of money — much smaller I think than most men would be willing to start with, who had resolved to go so far. I had, in truth, but sixty dollars in the world ; but I possessed a very good wardrobe, and some Other personal means, such as it may be supposed will adhere to a man who has lived in abundance for many years. I put up a miniature col- lection of mineralogical specimens, to serve as a standard of comparison in the west, a few implements for analysis, some books which I thought it would be difficult to meet with in that region, and some drawing mate- rials. I had connected these things in some way with my future success. In other respects, I had the means, as above hinted, of making a respect- able appearance. Thus prepared, I bade adieu to my father and mother, and also to three sisters and a brother, all younger than myself, and set forward. The winter of 1818 had opened before I reached my brother's house at Geneva, in western New York. From this point I determined to leave the main track, through the Genessee county west, and to strike the head waters of the Alleghany river, so as to descend that stream with the spring flood. My brother drove me in his own sleigh, as far as Angelica. By the time we reached that place, being no traveller and much fatigued with the intricacies and roughness of the road, he was fain to give over his undertaking, and I parted from him, sending back the sleigh from Olean, to take him home. The Alleghany river was locked with ice when I reached it. I had an opportunity to cross it on foot, and to e.vamine in the vicinity thosa evidences of the coal formation which are found in masses of bituminous shale, slaty coal and petroleum. The river began to open about the middle of March. I left Olean in the first ark 'or the season, borne onwards down the sweeping Alleghany at the top of the flood, often through winding channels, and once in danger of being precipitated over a mill dam, by taking the wrong channel. On another occasion, just as we were coming to the division of the channel, at the head of a group of islands, a tall Seneca Indian, standing in the bow of a very long pine canoe, cried out, in a tone of peculiar em- phasis, " Keep to the right — I speak it." This direction we followed, and were saved from another mishap. We tied the ark to the shore at nigh^ PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 9 bmlt a fire on the bank and cooked a supper. On pnssing the Conowonga, it was at the height of its flood, and appeared to bring; in as much water as the Alleghany. We stopped at the noted chief Corn])lantor's village, and also to gratify a reminiscent curiosity, at the month of French Creek, connected with Washington's perilous adventure in visiting Fort de Boef, now Erie. At Kittaning, a great scow ferry boat was rowed and man- aged by two women or girls with a degree of muscular exertion, or rather ease, which would put to the blush many a miin east or west of the Alle- ghanies. The tone, air, and masculine strength of these girl-boatmen, reminded me of nothing this side of RoUin's description of the Amazons — save that the same provision was not apparent for drawing the bow. Bold hills line both banks of the river along its upper parts, and continue, indeed, at farther intervals apart, to very near the junction of the Monon- gahela ; but long before this point, the stream is one of noble dimensions, clear, broad, and strong. After a voyage of exciting and vivid interest, I reached and landed at Pittsburgh. NO. II. It is Dr. Johnson, I think, who says, that we take slight occasions to be pleased. At least, I found it so, on the present occasion ; the day of my arrival was my birth day, and it required but little stretch of imagi- nation to convert the scene upon which I had now entered, into a new world. It was new to me. — I was now fairly in the great geological valley of the v^st, the object of so many antici])iitions. The ark, m which I liad' descended the Allegany, put ashore near the point of land, which is formed by the junction of the Monongahela with this fine clear stream. The dark and slowly moving waters of the one, contrasted strongly with the sparkling velocity of the other. I felt a buoy.incy of spirits as I leapt ashore, and picked up some of its clean pebblis to sre what kind of geological testimony they bore to the actual character of their parent beds in the Apalachian range. '•What shall I pay you, for my passage, from Olean," said I, to the gentleinnn with whom I had descended, and at whose ark-table I had found a ready seat with his family. "Nothing, my dear sir," he replied with ii prompt and friendly air, — '' Your cheerful aid in the way, taking the oars whenever the case required it, has more than compensated for any claims on that score, and I only regret that you are not going further with us." Committing my baggage to a carman, I ascended the bank of diluvial earth and pebbles with all eagerness, and walked to the point of land where l'"ort Pitt (old Fort Du Quesne) had stood. It is near this point that the Alleghany and Monongahela unite, and give birth to the noble Ohio. It is something to st.and at the head of sneh a stream. The charm of novelty is beyond all others. I could realize, in thought, as I stood here, gazing on the magnificent i)rospect of mingling waters, and their prominent and varied shores, the idea, which is said to be endiodied in the old Mingo substantive-exclamation of 0-hc-o! a term, be it remem- bered, which the early French interpreters at once rendered, and truly, it is believed, by the name of La Uille Riviere. So far, I said to myself, all is well, — I am now west of the groat spinal chain. All that I know of America is now fairly ra.s-^ of me — bright streams, warm hearts and all. I have faiily cast myself loose 10 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 11 on the wide waters of the west. I have already come as many hundred miles, as there are days in the week, but I begin my travels here. 1 have, as it were, taken my life in my hand. Father and mother, I may never see more. God wot the result. I go to seek and fulfil an unknown destiny. Come weal or woe, I shall abide the result. All the streams run south, and I have laid in, with "time and chance" for a journey with them. I am but as a chip on their surface — nothing more ! Whether niy bones iire to rest in this great valley, or west of the Cordilleras, or the Rocky Mountains, I know not. I shall often think of the silver Iosco, the farther I go from it. To use a native metaplior, iVly foot is on the path, and the word, is onward ! " Tho spider taketh hold with her hands," Solomon says, "and is in king's palaces." Truly, a man should accomplish, by diligence, as much as a spider. Pittsburgh was, even then, a busy manufacturing town, filled with working machinery, steam engines, hammers, furnaces, and coal smoke. I visited Mr. O'Hara, and several other leading manufacturers. TIfcy made glass, bar iron, nails, coarse pottery, castings, and many other articles, which filled its sliops and warehouses, and gave it a city-like appearance. Every chimney and pipe, perpendicular or lateral, puflod out sooty coal smoke, and it required some dexterity to keep a clean collar half a day. I mot ladies who bore this /w/^h'.m of tlie city, on their morning toilet. I took lodgings at Mr.s. McCuilough's, a respectable hotel on Wood street, and visited the various manufactories, for which the place was then, and is now celebrated. In these visits, I collected accurate data of the cost of raw material, the place wliere obtained, the e.xpense of manuficture, and the price of the finished fabric. I iiad thus a body of facts, which enabled me, nt least to converse understandingly on these topics, to give my friends in the east, suitable data, and to compare the advantages of manu- facturing here with those pe.^M'Ssed by the eastern and middle states. Every thing was. in the business prospects of tho west, however, at a compara- tively low elib. The prostrating efi'ects ol the war, and of the peace, were alike felt. We had conquered England, in a second contest, but were well exhausted with the ellbrt. The country had not recovered from the sacrifices and losses of a series of military operations, which fell most heavily on its western population. Its agricultural industry had been crippled. Its financial affairs were deranged. Its local banks were broken : its manufactories were absolutely ruined. There was little con- fidence in business, and never was credit, public and private, at a lower ebb. There was however, one thing, in which the west held out a shining prospect. It had abundance of the finest lands in the world, and in fact, it promised a happy homo to the agricukural industry of half the world. It was literally the land of promise, to the rest of the union, if not to Europe. Having seen whatever I wished in Pittsburgh, I hired a horse and 12 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. crossing" the Monongahela, went up its southern banks, as high as Wil- jamsport. I found the country people were in the habit of calling the city • Pitt" or " Fort Pitt," a term dating back doubtless to the time of the sur- render, or rather taking possession of Fort Du Q,uesne, by Gen. Forbes. Mineral coal (bituminous) characterizes the entire region, as far as my excursion reached. By a happy coincidence in its geological structure, iron ores are contained in the series of the coal deposits. On returning from this trip, night set in, very dark : on the evening I approached the summit of the valley of the Monongahela, called Coal Hill. The long and winding road down this steep was one mass of moving mud, only varied in its consistence, bysloughs, sufficient to mire both man and horse. I was compelled to let the animal choose his own path, and could only give him aid, when the flashes of lightning lit up the scene with a momentary brilliance, which, however, had often no other effect but to remind me of my danger. He brought me, at length, safely to the brink of the river, and across the ferry. To be at the head of the Ohio river, and in the great manufacturing city of the West, was an exciting thought, in itself. I had regarded Pittsburgh as the alpha, in my route, and after I had made myself familiar with its characteristics, and finding nothing to invite my further attention, I prepared to go onward. For this purpose, I went down to the banks of the Monongahela, one day, where the arks of that stream usually touch, to look for a passage. I met on the be ich, a young man from Massa- chusetts, a Mr. Brigham, — who had come on the same errand, and being pleased with each other, we engaged a passage together, and getting our baggage aboard immediately, set off the same evening. To float in an ark, down one of the loveliest rivers in the world, was, at least, a novelty, and as all novelty gives pleasure, we went on charmingly. There were some ten or a dozen passengers, including two married couples. We prome- naded the decks, and scanned the ever changing scenery, at every bend, with unalloyed delight. At night we lay down across the boat, with our feet towards the fire-place, in a line, with very little diminution of the wardrobe we carried by day, — the married folks, like light infantry in an army, occupying the flanks of our nocturnal array. The only objection I found to the night's rest, arose from the obligation, each one was tacitly under, to repair on deck, at the hollow nightcry of "oars!" from the steersman. This was a cry which was seldom uttered, however, except when we were in danger of being shoved, by the current, on the head of some island, or against some frowning "snag," 80 that we had a mutual interest in being punctual at this cry. By it, sleep was to be enjoyed only in sections, sometimes provokinijly short, and our dreams of golden vallies, studded with pearls and gems, were oddly jumbled with the actual presence of plain matter of fact things, such as running across a tier of "old monongahela" or getting one's fingeri PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 13 trod on, in scrambling on deck. Wo took our meals on our laps, sitting around on boxes and barrels, and made amends for the want of style or elegance, by cordial good feeling and a practical exhibition of the best principles of " association." There was another pleasing peculiarity in this mode of floating. Two or more arks were frequently lashed together, by order of their commanders, whereby our conversational circle was increased, and it was not a rare circumstance to find both singers and musicians, in the moving communities for "the west," so that those who were inclined to, might literally dance as they went. This was certainly a social mode of conquering the wilderness, and gives some idea of the bouyancy of American character. How different from the sensations felt, in floating down the same stream, by the same means, in the era of Boon, — the gloomy era of 1777, when instead of violin, or flageolet, the crack of the Indian rifle was the only sound to be anticipated at every new bend of the channel. Off Wheeling the commander of our ark made fast to a larger one from the Monongahela, which, among other acquaintances it brought, introduced me to the late Dr. Sellman of Cincinnatti, who had been a surgeon in Wayne's army. This opened a vista of reminiscences, which were wholly new to me, and served to impart historical interest to the scene. Some dozen miles below this town, we landed at the Grave Creek Flats, for the purpose of looking at the large mound, at that place. I did not then know that it was the largest artificial structure of this kind in the western country. It was covered with forest trees of the native growth, some of which were several feet in diameter, and it had indeed, essen- tially the same look and character, which I found it to present, twenty- five years afterwards, when I made a special visit to this remarkable mausoleum to verify the character of some of its antiquarian contents. On ascending the flat summit of the mound, I found a charming prospect around. Tlie summit was just 50 feet across. There was a cup-shaped concavity, in its centre, exciting the idea that there had been some internal substructure which had given way, and caused the earth to cave in. This idea, after having been entertained for more than half a century, was finally verified in 1838, when Mr. Abelard Tomlinson, a grandson of the first proprietor, caused it to be opened. They discovered two remarkable vaults, built partly of stone, and partly of logs, as was judged from the impressions in the earth. They were situated about seventeen feet apart, one above the other. Both contained bones, the remains of human skeletons, along with copper bracelets, plates of mica, sea shells, heads of wrought conch, called '' ivory" by the muhitude, and some other relics, most of which were analooous to articles of the same kind occur- ring in other ancient mounds in the west. The occasion would not indeed have justified the high expectations which had been formed, had it not been for the discovery, in one of the vaults, of a small flat stone of an oval form, 14 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. '\ i = containing an inscription in ancient characters. This inscription, which promises to throw new light on the early history of America, has no» been dccyphered. Copies of it have been sent abroad. It is thought by the learned at Copenhacen, to be CeUiboric. It is not, in their view Runic. Il has, apparently, but one hieroglyphic, or symbolic figure. A good deal of historical interest clusters about this discovery of the insciibetl stone. Tornlinson,the grandfather, settled on these flats in 1772, two yi'urs before the murder of Logan's family. Large trees, as large as any in the forest, then covered the flats and the mound. There stood in the depression I have mentioned, in the top of the mound, a large beech tree, which had been visited earlier, as was shewn by several names and dates cut on the bark. Among these, there was one of the date of A. D. 1734. This I have seen stated under Mr. Tomliiison's own band. Tha place continued to be much visited from 1770 to 1790, as was shewn by newer names and dates, and indeed, continues to be so still. There was standing at the time of my first visit in 1818, on the very summit of the mound, a large dead or decayed white oak, which was cut down, it appears, about ten years afterwards. On counting its cortical layers, it was ascertained to be about 500 years old. This would denote the desertion of the mound to have happened about the commencement of the 13th century. Granting to this, what appears quite clear, that the in- scription is of European origin, have we not evidence, in this fact, of the continent's having been visited prior to the era of Columbus? Visited by whom? By a people, or individuals, it may be said, who had the use of an antique alphabet, which was much employed, (although corrupted, varied and complicated by its spread) among the native priest- hood of the western shores and islands of the European continent, prior to the introduction of the Roman alphabet. The next object of antiquarian interest, in my descent, was at Gullipolis — the site of an original French settlement on the west bank, \\hich is connected with a story of much interest, in the history of western migrations. It is an elevated and eligible plain, which had before been the site of an Indian, or aboriginal settlement. Some of the articles found in a mound, such as plates of mica and sea shells, and beads of the wrought conch, indicated the Siime remote period for this ancient settlement, as theoneat Grave Creek Flats; but I never heard of any inscribed articles, or monuments bearing alphabetic characters. All other interest, then known, on this subject, yielded to that which was felt in witnessing the antique works at Marietta. Like many others who had preceded me and many who have followed me, in my visit, I felt while walking over these semi-military ruins, a strong wish to know, who had erected works so difl^erent from those of the present race of In- dians, and during what phasis of the early history of the continent? A covered way had, evidently, been constructed, from the margin of PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 15 hich ther3 I felt now, f In- lent? n of the Muskingum to the elevated square, e-incinj more than the ordi- nary degree oi military skill exercised ly liie Western Indiatis. Yet these works revealed one trait, which ussimilutes them, in churuetcr, with others, of kindred stump, in the west. 1 ulliido to the defence of the open gate-way, by a minor mound ; clearly denoting that the passage was to be disputed by men, fighting hand to hand, who merely sought an advantage in exercising manual strength, by elevation of position. The Marietta tumuli also, agree in style with others in the Ohio valley. A leaden plate was found near this place, a few years after tins visit, of which an account was given by Gov. Clinton, in a letter to the American Antiquarian Society, in 18'i7, but the inscription upon it, which was in Latin, but mutilated, proved that it relatcti to the period of the French supremacy in the Caiiadas. It appeared to have been originally deposited at the mouth of the river Venango, A. D. 1749, during the reign of Louis XV. While at Marietta, our flotilla was increased by another ark from the Muskingum, which brought to my acquaintance the Hon. Jesse B. Thomas, of Illinois, to whose civilities I was afterwards indebted, on several occa- sions. Thus reinforced, we proceeded on, delighted with the scenery of every new turn in the river, and augmentingour circle of fellow travellers, and table acquaintance, if that can be called a table acquaintance which assembles around a rustic board. One night an accident befel us, which threatened the entire loss of one of our flotilla. It so happened, at the spot of our landing, that the smaller ark, being outside, was pressed by the larger ones, so far ashore, as to tilt the opposite side into the stream below the caulked seam It would have sunk, in a few minutes, but was held up, partly by its fastening to the other boats. To add to the interest felt, it was filled with valuable machinery. A congress of the whole travelling community assembled on shore, some pitching pebble-stones, and some taking a deeper interest in the fate of the boat. One or two unsuccesstiii efl()rts had been made to bail it out, but the water flowed in faster than it could be removed. To cut loose the rope and abandon it, seemed all that remained. "I feel satisfied," said I, "to my Massachusetts friend, that two men, bailing with might and main, cnri throw out more water, in a givi'u time, than is let Lti by those seams; and if you will step in wuh me. we will test it, by trying again." With a full assent and ready good will he met this proposition. We pulled ofT our coats, and each taking a pail, .stepped in the water, then half leg deep in the ark, and began to bail away, with all force. By dint of determination we soon had the sati.sfaction to see the water line lower, and catching new spirit at this, we finally succeeded in sinking its level below the caulked seam. The point was won. Others now stepped in to our relief The ark and its machinery were saved. This little incident was one of those which served to produce pleasurable sensations, all round, and led per- i 16 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. haps, to some civilities at a subsequent date, which were valuable to me. At any rate, Mr. 'rhoinus, who owned the ark, was so well picased, that he ordered u warm breakfast of toast, chickens, and cofTee on shore for the whole party. This was a welcome substitute for our ordinary breakfast of bacon and tea on board. Such little incidents serve as new points of encourngfment to travellers: the very shores of the rivei looked more delightful, after we put out, and went on our way that morn- ing. So much has a satisfied appetite to do with the aspect of things, both without, as well as within doors. The month of April hud now fairly opened. The season was delight- I'ul. Every rural sound was joyful — every sight novel, and a thousand circumstaiici'S united to make the voyage one of deep and unmixed interest. At this early season nothing in the vegetable kingdom gives a more striking and pleasing character to the forest, than the frequent occurrence of the celtis ohioensis, or Red Bud. It presents a perfect bou(iuet of red, or rose-coloured petals, while there is not a leaf exfoliated upon its branches, or in the entire forest. No incident, further threatening the well being of our party, occurred on the descent to Cincinnatti, where we landed in safety. But long before we reached this city, its outliers, to use a geological phrase, were encoun- tered, in long lines and rafts of boards and pine timber, from the sources of the Alleghany, and arks and flat-boats, from all imaginable places, with all imaginable names, north of its latitude. Next, steamboats lying along the gravel or clay banks, then a steam-mill or two, puffing up its expended strength to the clouds, and finally, the dense mass of brick and wooden buildings, jutting down in rectangular streets — from high and exceedingly beautiful and commanding hills in the rear. All was suited to realize high expectations. Here was a city indeed, on the very spot from which St. Clair set out, on his ill-fated expedition in 1791, against the hostile Indians. Twenty-five years had served to transform the wilderness into scenes of cultivation and elegance, realizing, with nc faint outlines, the gay creations of eastern fable. me. 1, that shore linory s new rivei morn- things, lelight- lousand nmixed n gives frequent 1 perfect xfoliated occurred (ig before 3 encoun- e sources e places, )ats lying uffing up of brick rom high All was the very in 1791, transform g, with nc NO. III. CrNriNVATi had, at this lime, (1818,) the ajjpearancc of a rapidly grow- in;,' citv, which nppcaicd to have, from some general causes, been suddenly checliod in ils growth. Whole rows of unfinished brick buildintfs had bcM'o li'ft by the workmen. Banks, and the ofTicesof corporate and miinu- flicturin? comp;\nies, were not unfrequcntly found shut. Nor did it re- quiie ion? looking or much inquiry to learn that it had seen more pros- perous times. A branch bank of the U. S. then recently established there, was much and bitterly, but I know not how justly, spoken against. But if there was not the same life and air in all departments, that formerly ex- i.ned, there was abundant evidence of the e.\istence of resources in the city and country, which must revive and push it onward in its career and growth, to rank second to no city west of the Alleghanies. This city owes its orii^in, I believe, to John Cleves Symes, father-in-law of the late Presi- dent Harrison, a Jerseyman by birth, who, in planning it, took Philadel- phia as his model. This has imparted a regularity to its streets, and squares, that visitors will at once recognize, as characteristic of its paren- tage. It stands on a heavy diluvial formation of various layers of clay, loam, sand, and gravel, disposed in two great plateaux, or first and second banks, the lowest of which is some thirty or forty feet above the common sinnraer level of the Ohio. Yet this river has sometimes, but rarel}', been known to surmount this barrier and invade the lowermost streets of the city. These diluvial bods have yielded some curious antiquarian relics, which lead the mind farther back, for their origin, than the Indian race. The most curious of these, if the facts are correctly reported to me, was the discovery of a small antique-shaped iron horse-shoe, found twenty-five feet below the surflico in grading one of the streets, and the blunt end, or stump of a tree, at another locality, at the depth of ninety-four feet, to- gether with marks of the cut of an a.\c, and an iron wedge. I have had no means to verify these facts, but state them as credible, from the cor- roborative testimony afforded them by other discoveries in the great geolo- gical basin of the west, e.vamined by me, which denote human occupancy m America prior to the deposition of the last of the unconsolidated and eocene series. Our flotilla here broke up, and the persons who had formed its floating 2 17 18 PBRNONAL nKMINIHCRNCeS. community scpnratcd, cncli to pinsiie liis several wny, nnd separate views. I made several accjiinintiuicfs, w hose iiaiiirs arc recollected with pleasure. Dr, S. invited me to dine with him, introduced nic to hia young partner, Dr. Moorhead, and put mo in the wny of obtaining eligible j)rivMtc lodg- ings. The three weeks I spent in this city were ngreeahly panged, varied OS they were, by short excursions in the vicinity, including the Licking valley — a stream which conies i'l on 'h.? Kfiitiicky side, directly opposite the city, 1 went, one day, to see tod clifT, manner of biiililin^f of the provincial villngi's and towns of tlio parent country, as still existing. Three miles above this jijuco we cnine to a noted point of crossing calletl the Little Hock Ferry ; a spot worthy of note at that time as the resilience of a very aged Frenciunan, called Le Unton. Statements which are believed to be true, made him lU'J years old. From his own account he was at the seige of Hergen-op-zooin, in Flanders; at the seige of Louislmrg; at the building of Fort Chartres, in lliniois; and at liiiuidoclv's defeat. After his dis'-h-trge, he discoveretl those extensive lead mines in Washington county, about forty miles west of the river, which still bear his name. The coast between St. Cjenevieve and Herculanemn is almost one con- tinuous cliifof precipitous rocks, which are broken through chiefly at the points where rivers and streams discharge. Herculaneurn itself is seated on one o f tl lese lun ited •earns areas, he mmeU ni ill's m this case. were rendered still more picturesijue by their elevated shot towers. I landed at this place about noon of my twenty-second day's ascent, and find- ing it a convenient avenue to the mine district, determined to leave my baggage at a hotel till my return from St. Louis, and pursue the rest of the journey to that place on foot. It was at this point that I was hitroduced to Mr. Austin, the elder, who warmly approved my plan of exploring the mines, and oflined every facility in his power to further it. Mr. Austin was, he informed me at a subsequent stage of our ac(|uaintancc, a native of Connecticut. He had gone early into Virginia and settled at Richmond, where his eldest son was born, and atterwards removed to Wythe county. In 1778 he went into Upper Louisiana, enduring severe sulferings and the risk of life, in crossing the country by way of Vincenncs to St. liouis, where he was well received by the Spanish local governor. He obtained a grant of land in the present area of Washington county, the principal seat of the oUer mines. About the time I went to Missouri, or soon after it, he resolved to visit San Antonio, in Texas, with a view of introducing a colony of Americans into that t]uarter. This plan he carried into execu- tion, I think, in 1820, and returned with an ample grant; but he did not live to carry its stipulations into effect, having died suddenly after his return, at the house of his daughter, Mrs. Bryant, at Hazel lliui. Mr. Austin was a man of great zeal and fervour of imagination, and en- tered very warmly into all his plans and views, whatever they were. He was hospitable, frank, intelligent, and it is with feelings of unmixed plea- sure, that [ revert to my acquaintance with him, no less than with his talented son, Stephen, and the e.xcellent, benign, and lady-like Mrs. Austin, and other members of this intelligent family. I III I ' 1 NO. V, Herculankijm had nothing in common with its sombre Italian proto- type, which has been dug out of dust and ashes in modern time?; but ita name. Instead of buried p;ilaccs and ruins of a hixurious ago of marble, bronze and silver, most of the houses were built of squared oak loirs, and had bulliy old fashioned chimneys, built outside with a kind of cnscelated air, as they are seen in the old French and Dutch settlements in Canada, and along the vallies of the Hudson and Mohawk. The arts of painting and gilding and cornices, had not yet extended their empire here. Mr. Austin's residence, was the only exception to this remark, I remember. The Courts of Justice were content to hold their sessions in one of the oaken timber buildings named ; the county jail had a marvellous re- semblance to an ample smoke-house, and my kind 'i>~'?t, Ellis, who was a na- tive of South Carolina, was content to serve up suostant-al and good cheer in articles, not exhumed from a city buried in volcanic ashes, but in plain fabrics of Staflbrdshire and Birmingham. In addition to the host-like and agreeable resort, which travellers unexpectedly found at his hands, in a mansion whose exterior gave no such signs, he presided over the depart- ment of a public ferry, established at this place, across the wild and fluc- tuating Mississippi; and had he kept note book, he could have given account of many a one, from other lands, with golden hopes of the far west, whom ho had safely conducted, against the most adverse floods, to the Missouri shore. I found a few old books at his house, which showed that there had been readers in his family, and which helped to while away moments, which every traveller will find on his hands. I have intimated that there was nothing in the way of the antique, in Herculaneum, but its name. To this I might add, that there was no ex- ception, imless it be found in the impressions of objects, in the structure of the rocks, in this quarter, denoting a prior age of existence. I was shown an impression, in the surface of a block of limestone, quarried here, which was thought to resemble a man's foot. It did not appear to me to bear this similitude, but was rather to be referred to some organic extinct forms, which are not yet well understood. Having passed a couple of days here, I set out early mov 30 ning, PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 31 on foot, for St. Louis, accompanied by two young men from Pennsylvania, with whom I iiad become acquainted on prior parts of my route. They had come with an adventure of merchandize from the waters of the Yiougliagany, and were desirous of seeing the (then) capitol of the Terri- tory. Nothing untoward occurred, until we reached and crossed the liver Merrimack, where night overtook us, and set in with intense dark- ness, just as we reached tlie opposite shore. There was but one house in llio vicinity ; and not distant more than a mile, but such was the intensity of the darkness, owing to clouds and a gathering storm, that we lost the road, wandered in the woods for some hours, during which the rain com- menced, and were at length directed to the house we sought, by the faint and occasional tinkling of a cow bull. We travelled t!iO ne.xt morning twelve miles, to breakfast at the antique looking village of Carondalct. The route lies over an elevated tract of uplands, eligibly situated on the right bank of the Mississippi, in which a growth of wild prairie grass and llowers, filled up the broad spaces be- tween the trees. Tiiere was no habitation visible on the route — a stand- mg spring midcr a ledge of rocks, about half way, was the only spot where we could get a drop of water to allay our thirst — for it was a hot August day. We encountered several deer, and from the frequent occur- rence of their tracks, deemed such an occurrence to be common. It is on this elevated and airy tract, that the site of JefTerson Barracks, has since been judiciously established by the government. Beyond Carondalet, the country has the appearance of a grown-up heath. It is a bushy uninviting tract, without mature forest trees. The most interesting feature we saw, consisted of a number of regular depres- sions, or cup-shaped concavities in the soil, caused by the passage of springs over a clay basis, upon which there is deposited a heavy diluvial stratum of sand, mixed earth and pebbles. Within about three miles of the city, this heathy and desolate tract began to assume a cultivated character ; dwellings and gardens soon succeeded, and we found ourselves, by almost imperceptible grades, introduced into the city, which we. reached about four o'clock in the afternoon. On entering its ancient Spanish barriers, we noticed one of the old stone towers, or defences, which constituted a part of the enclosure. Tliis town, I afterwards learned, had been regu- larly walled and fortified, during the possession of the country by the Spanish crown. As soon as I had taken lodgings, I called on R. Petti- bone Esq., a friend formerly of Vernon, in western N. Y. who had estab- lished himself in this central city of the west, in the practice of the law; he was not in, at the moment, but his family received me with cordiality. He returned my visit in the evening, and insisted on my taking up my quarters at his house. Tiie time that I spent here, was devoted to the most prominent objects which the town and its vicinity presented to in- terest a stranger, such as the private m\ ,eum of the late Gen. VVm. Clark, li 32 PKUSONAL UKMINISCKN'CES. I'i coiitmmnj'' many articles of lii-li and valiiaMo Iiulian cnstiirnn; the larije naltiral iiioiinda aljuvi; tin; city, aiiii tlio cliaractcr of tlio mcit Idniiation aloii^r tin; shores ot'tiic river, which was said to have had llic niijirii^sidiis of human foft, on its original surliicc. The latti-r 1 did not sen till tlio Slimmer oC 1821, uliun the IiIkcU of stone containin;,' tlieni was examined in Mr. l{a|)j»'.s ^Mrden, at Harmony, on thii Wahai'li. My inclinal'oiis haviiii,' led me, at lliis time, to visit the rxtcn^ive lead minis. southweM of this city, on tiie wateis of tin? MerrimM 'I i 36 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES I- mining. Had an absolute monarch called for this vast an.ount of labour from his people to build some monument, he would have been declared the greatest tyrant. Indeed, I know of no instance in America, of the misapplication of so great an amount of free labour — labour cheerfully bestowed, and thrown away without a regret. For the losers in mining, like the adventurers in a lottery, have no one to blame but themselves. It appeared to me that a statement of the actual condition of the mines, iVould be received with attention at Washington, and that a system for the better management of them could not but be approved, were it properly brought forward. I determined to make the attempt. It did not, how- ever, appear to me, that nature had limited the deposits of ore to one spe- cies, or to so limited an area, and I sought means to extend my personal examinations farther west and south. To bring this about, and to collect the necessary information to base statements on, in a manner correspondent to my wishes, required time, and a systematic mode of recording fiicts, To this object, in connexion with the natural history of the country, 1 devoted the remainder of the year, and a part of the following year. I soon found, after reaching the mines, that I had many coadjutors in the business of collecting specimens, in the common miners, some of whom were in the habit of laying aside for me, any thing they found, iii their pits and leads, which assumed a new or curious character. Inquiries and applications relative to the mineralogy and structure of the country were made, verbally and by letter, from many quarters. I established my resi- dence at Potosi, but made excursions, from time to time, in various direc- tions. Some of these excursions were fruitful of incidents, which would be worth recording, did the cursory character of these reminiscences per- mit it. On one occasion, I killed a horse by swimming him across the Joachim river, at its mouth, whilst he was warm and foaming fVom a hard day's ride. He was put in the stable and attended, but died the next day, as was supposed, from this sudden transition. There was scarcely a mine or digging in the country, for forty miles around, which I did not personally examine ; and few persons, who had given attention to the subject, from whom I did not derive some species of information. The general hospitality and frankness of the inhabitants of the mine country could not but make a favourable impression on a stranger. The custom of riding on horseback, in a region which a fiords great facilities for it, makes every one a horseman and a woodsman, and has generated something of the cavalier air and manners. But nothing impressed mo more, in this connexion, than the gallant manner, which 1 observed here, of putting a lady on horseback. She stands facing you, with the bridle in her right hand, and gives you her left. She then places one of her feet in your left hand, which you stoop to receive, when, by a simultaneous exertion and spring, she is vaulted backwards into the saddle. Whether PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 37 if tliis be a transmitted Spanish custom, I know not, but I have not observed it in the French, or American settlements west of the Ailejhanies. The earthquakes of 1812, which were so disastrous in South America, are known to have propagated themselves towards the north, and they ex- erted some striking efl'ects in the lower part of the valley of the Missis- sippi, sending down into the clianncl of the latter, large areas of deluvial earth, as was instanced, in a remarkable manner, at New IVIadrid. Por- tions of the fort'st, back of this town, sunk, and gave place to lakes and lagoons. These elTects were also witne;fsed, though in a milder form, in the more solid formniions of the mine country. Soon after reaching Potosi, I visited the Mineral Fork, a tributary of the Merrimack, where some of these eflects had been witnessed. I descended into the pit and crevices of the OIJ Mines. These mines were explored in the metallifer- ous rock. Every thing had an old and ruinous look, for they had been abandoned. Large quantities of the ore had been formerly raised at this mine, which was pursued into a deep fissure of the limestone rock. I de- scended into this fissure, and found among the rubbish and vein stones, large elongated and orbicular masses of calc spar, the outer surfaces of which bore strong marks of geological abrasion. They broke into rhombs very transparent, and of a honey-yellow colour. Mr. Elliot, the intelli- gent proprietor of this mine, represented the indications of ore to have been flattering, although every thing was now at a stand. Masses of sulphurel of zinc, in the form of blende, were noticed at this locality. Mr. Elliot invited me to dine, and he filled up the time with interesting local remin- iscences. He stated, among other facts, that a copious spring, at these mines, dried up during the remarkable earthquakes of 1812. These earthquakes appear to have discharged their shocks in the direction of the stratification from the southwest to tlie northeast, but they spent their force west of the Mississippi. Their chief violence was at Natchitoches and New Madrid, at the latter of which they destroyed an immense area of alluvial land. Their effects in the Ohio valley, lying exactly in the direc- tion of their action, were slight. A Mr. Watkins, of Cincinnati, accom- panied me on this examination, and rode back with me to Potosi. On the 9th of August, I had dined with Samuel Perry, Esq, at Mine a Burton, one of the principnl inhabitants of the county, and was passing the evening at Mr. Austin's, when Mr. and Mrs. Perry came suddenly in. They had hardly taken seats, when a rabble of persons with bells and horns surrounded the house, and kept up a tumult that would have done honor t(j one of the wildest festivals of St. Nicholas, headed by Brom Bonea himself. This, we were told, was a Chiraviri. And what is a Chiraviri? I am not deep enough read in French local customs to give a satisfactory answer, but the custom is said to be one that the populace may indulge in, whenever a marriage has taken place in the village, which is not in exact uccordarxc with their opinions of its propriety. 1 was, by this incider' in- 88 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. formed of Mr. Perry's recent marriage, and should judge, moieover, that he had exercised both taste and judgment in his selection of a partner. The affair of the Chiraviri is said to have been got up by some spiteful persons. Towards the middle of the month (12th,) I set out, accompanied by Mr. James B. Austin, on hort-eback, for Herculaneuni, by the way of Hazel Run, a route displaying a more southerly section of the mine country ilian I had before seen. A ride on horseback over the mine hills, ollui.s one of the most delightful prospects of picturesque sylvan beauty that can be well conceived of. The hills are, with a few exceptions, not precipitous enough to make the ride irksome. They rise in long and gentle swells, resembling those of the sea, in which the vessel is, by an easy motion, al- ternately at the top of liquid hills, or in the bottom of liquid vales. From these hills the prospect extends ever a surface of heath-grass and prairie flowers, with an open growth of oaks, giving the whole country rather the aspect of a yark than a wilderness. Occasionally a ridge of pine intervenes, and wherever there is a brook, the waters present the trans- parency ol rock crystal. Sometimes a range of red clay hillocks, put- ting up rank shrubs and vines of species which were un/oww/i before^ indicates an abandoned digging or mine. Farms and farm houses were then few ; and every traveller we met on hoisebacli, had more or less the bearing of a country cavalier, with a fine horse, good equipments, per- haps holsters and pistols, sometimes a rifle, and always something of a military air, betokening manliness and independence. Wherever we stopped, and whoever we met on the way, there was evinced a courteous and hospitable disposition. We did not leave Potosi till afternoon. It was a hot August day, and it was dusk before we entered the deep shady valley of Big River. Some delay arose in waiting for the ferryman to put us across the river, and it was nine o'clock in the evening when we reached Mr. Bryant's, at Hazel Run, where we were cordially received. Our host would not let us leave his house, next morning, till after breakfast. We rode to McCorniick's, on the Platten, to dinner, and reached Herculaneum before sunset. The distance by this route from Potosi is forty-five miles, and the road, with the exception of a couple of miles, presented a wholly new section of the country. The Mississippi was now low, displaying large portions of its margin, and exhibiting heavy deposits of mud and slime, which broke into cakes, as they dried in the sun. I know not whether these exhalations affected me, but I experienced a temporary illness for a few days during this visit. I recollect that we had, during this time, some severe and drenching rain Btorms, with vivid and copious lightning, and heavy pealing thunder. These drenching and rapid showers convert the brooks and rills ol tho mine country to perfect torrents, and this explains one cause of tho wash- I P' PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 39 ing away and gullying of roads and streets, so remarkable on the west bank of tiie Mississippi. My illness induced me to give up returning on horseback ; and I set out, on the 18th of the month, in a dearborn, acco.n- panied by Mrs. Austin. On descending the long hill, near Donnell's, oe- yond the Joachim, the evening was so dark that I became sensible I must have got out of the road. I drove with the more care a few moments, and stopped. Requesting Mrs. Austin to hold the reins, I jumped out and e.vplored the ground. I found myself in an abandoned, badly gullied track, which would have soon capsized the wagon ; but leading the liorse by the bridle, I slowly regained my position in the direct road and got down the hill, and reached the house without further accident. Ne.xtday we drove into Potosi by four o'clock in the afternoon. This was my second visit, and 1 now accepted a room and quarters for my collection, at their old homestead called Durham Hall. From this period till the middle of September, I pursued with unre- mitting assiduity, the enquiry in hand, and by that time had made a cabi- net collection, illustrating fully the mineralogy, and, to some extent, the geo- logical structure of the country. I erected a small chemical furnace for assays. Some of the clays of the country were found to stand a high heat, and by tempering them with pulverized granite, consisting largely of feldspar, 1 obtiiined crucibles that answered every purpose. Some of the specimens ot lead treated in the dry way, yielded from 75 to 82 pei cent. Accident threw in my way, on the 25th of August, a fact which led to me discovery of a primitive tract, on the southern borders of the mine country, the true geological relation of which to the surrounding second- ary formations, formed at the outset rather a puzzle. I rode out on horse- back on that day, with Mr. Stephen F. Austin, to Miller's, on the Mineral Fork, to observe a locality of manganese, and saw lying, near his mills, some large masses of red syenitic granite^, which appeared to have been freshly blasted. He remarked that they were obtained on the St. Francis, and were found to be the best material at hand for millstones. On exami- nation, the rock consisted almost exclusively of red feldspar and quartz. A little hornblende was present, but scarcely a trace of mica. This species of syenitic granite, large portions of which, viewed in the field, are complete syenite, and all of which is very barren of crystals, I have smce found on the upper Mississippi, and throughout the northwestern regions above the secondary latitudes. The hint, however, was not lost. I took the first opportunity to visit the sources of the St. Francis : having obtained letters to a gentleman in that vicinity, I set out on horseback for that region, taking a stout pair of saddle-bags, to hold my collections, 1 passed through Murphy's and Cook's settlements, which are, at the present time, the central parts of St. Francis county. Mine a la Motte ttflbrded some new facts in its mineralogical features. I first saw this red 40 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. syenite, in place, on Blackford's Fork. The westernmost limits of this ancient mine extends to within a mile or two of this primitive formation. The red clay formation extends to the granitic elevations, and conceals their junction with the newer rock. The neaiest of tlie carboniferous series, in place, i.s on the banks of Rock Creek, at some miles' distance. It is there the crystalline sandstone. How far this primitive district of the St. Francis extends, has not been determined. Tiie St. Francis and Grand rivers, both have their sources in it. It is probable the Ozaw Fork of the Merrimack comes from its western borders. Not less than twenty or thirty miles can be assigned for its north and south limits. The Iron mountain of Bellvieu is within it. The vicinity of the pass called the Narrows, appears to have been the locality of former volcanic action. A scene of ruder disruption, marked by the vast accumulation of broken rock, it would be diiTicult to find. Indeed the whole tract is one of high geological, as well as scenic interest. Had the observer of this scene been suddenly dropped down into one of the wildest, broken, primitive tracts of New England, or the north east angle of New York, he could not have found a field of higher physical attractions, Trap ard green- stone constitute j)romincnt tracts, and exist in the condition of dykes in the syenite, or feldspalhique granite. I .sought in vain for mica in the form of distinct plates. Some of the greenstone is handsomely porpho- rytic, and embraces green crystals of feldspar. Portions of this rock arc sprinkled with masses of bright sulphuret of iron. Indeed iron in several of its forms abounds. By far the largest portion of it is in the shape of the micaceous oxyde. I searched, without success, for the irridescent specular variety, or Elba ore. In returning from this trip, I found Wolf river greatly swollen by rains, and had to swim it at much hazard, with my saddle-bags heavily laden with the results of my examination. It was dark when I reached the opposite bank : wet and tired I pushed for the only house in sight. As I came to it the doors stood open, the fences were down, a perfect air of desolation reigned around. There was no living being found ; and the masses of yawning darkness exhibited by the untenanted rooms, seemed a fit residence for the genius of romance. Neither my horse npr myself were, however, in a temper or pliglit for an adventure of this kind, and the poor beast seemed ns well pleased as I was, to push forward from so cheerless a spot. Four miles' riding through an untenanted forest, and a dark and blind road, brought us to a Mr. Murphy s, the sponsor of Murphy's settlement. i SCENES AND ADVEITURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. A. D. 1818 AND 1819. FROM THE OUGINAL NOTKS AM) JOl KNAL. PRELIMINARY REMARKS. V^Ki'.Y liule, It is conceived, is nccosjary to enable the leiuler to Jetoimine tlio. writer's position on the extreme south western fVontieis, in the year 1K18. He had spent the suuimei' of tluit year in traversing the mine dis- trict, which extends along tlie right banii of the Mississippi, between the mruth ol' the Abiioiiieg and liie diluvial cliffs south of Cape Girardeau, extending wi'St and south westward to the sourcfs of the. St. Francis. In tlierie niiiirraloi^ical rauil)Ies, which were pursued sometimes on foot, and sometimes on horsebaclc, or wheels, he made ac(]uaintance with many estimable men, amongst whom he may name the Austins, father and son, the late Col. Ashley, John Kice Jones, Esf]., and many others who are still living, by all wliom, his object in visiting the countiy was cordially approved and encouraged, at all times. He also became acquainted with practical miners, and persons of enterprize who were not only familiar with the settled frontiers, but who had occasionally penetrated beyond then;, into the broad expanse of highlands, now geographically known VrTTfirr Uie term of, the Ozark Chain. Giologically considered, the mine country is but the eastern flanks of this chain, which extends flush to the banks of the Mississippi, and has its terminus in that elevated range of mural clilTs, which form so striking atid often pictures(jne a display, be- tween St. Genevieve and St. Louis. There was, at the time, a general apprehension felt and expressed, by hunters and others who had pene- trated those wikls in quest of deer and bufialo, or of saltpetre-earth in the linieslonecavcs, of the predatory tribe of theOsages. — a people who had for years cnjny(>l the bad rejiutation of being thieves and plunderers. All concurred, however, in tlie interesting character of the country extending in a general course, sonth-westwardly, f.'om the jtmction of the Missouri with the Mississipju. lie felt an ardent desire to penetrate this terra incognit.a. Fie co'dd not leirn th it any exploiMtory journey had been made towards thi' Rocky .^b)Ullt;iillS, since the well known expeditions of Lewis and Ckirlc, up the Missouri, and of I-init. I'ike, acro.ss the upper region of the Arkansas, to Saute Fe and Chihuahua. Breckenridge had 41 42 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. subsequently piiblislicj an account of a trip to Council Bluffs.* But ncl thcrof ihcsu routis crosstd tlie wiih; and niounlariioiis tiacts rf.forrrdto, or gave any definite infbrinalion respecting them. Viewed on tiie map, these routes formed the general exterior outlines, but they left the interior filling up to be supplied, — or, if supplied at all, it was too often with such vaguo phrases as these — '• Here are salt mountains." " The is supposed to tak'e its rise here." " Vulcanic hills," and so forth. The geology of the country furnished no indications whatever of the piobahility of t!ie litter remark. The Kind of pseudo-pumice found floating down the Missouri, in high water, had been stated by Lewis and Clarke, to have a far more remote, and local origin. The description of roclc salt, in mountain mass, had long been numbered by popular belief, among the finciful creations of an exciting political era; and together with western volcanoes, had settled down among those antiquarian rumours, which hold up, as their prime item, the e.visteucc of the living mammoth "beyond the big 1 dves." If the writer of the notes and journal which furnish these sketches, was not swayed by any particular theories of this nature, yet was ho not free from the e.vpectation of finding abundant materials, in the natural pro- ductions and scenery and incidents of the journey, to reward him amply for its perils. He had received from hunters several objects of the minerological and geological collection which he made, while living at Potosi, and Mine a Burton: from these wild borders, and, without pretending to estimate the force of each particular object which made up the sum of his motives, he resolved to organize an expedition, with all the means he could muster, and explore the region. The Austins, who liad treated him with marked kindness and attention, from the hour of his ^rst landing in Missouri, were then preparing to make their first movement into Texas, and held out to him a fine theatre for enterprise ; but it was one not suited to his particular means or taste. He recoiled from the subtlety of the Spanish character; and is free to confess, that he deemed it a fur more attractive latitude for the zea maize and the cotton plant, than for those pursuits which led him to prefer the more rugged eminences of the Ozarks. They, in the end, founded a republic, and he only made an adventurous journey. Having thus recalled the era and the motive of the following sketches, the purport of these remarks is accomplished. Jiew York, 1844. • Tlif United States government, the very next year, 1819, sent out Col. Long to the Yellow Stone. ADVENTUTIES IN THE OZARK MOUN'TAINS. 43 CHAPTER I. u Tilings lo he tlioiiglit of before iiliinging into tiie woods — Composiiion of tlip party, and reasons why it was not more nniiieroiis — First iiifjlit's encampiiient — Preliminaries — Sleep in u (ieB'erfed Indian lodpe — A fingiiiar variety of the Fox Sepiirrel — The Pack lliirse escapes — Cross tiie elevation called the Pinery — Reach tlio outskirts of the settlements in the valley of tlie Fourche A'Courlois. Wiioi;vi;i; would venture into the wilderness, shonld provide liiinsclf with such articles of personal comfort or safety, as habits, forecast, or the particular object of pursuit or observation, require. Every one will think of arms and ammunition, but there are other things required to make life pleasant, or even tolerable in the woods. This, prior exclusions had already taught me, but the lesson was repeated by those of greater expe- rience. There were two persons who had agreed to go with me, and stick by me, to the end, — the one a native of Massachiissetts,and the other, of Connecticut, both like myself, new in the field, and unacquainted with life in the woods. What they lacked in this art, they more than made up, I thought, in intelligence, enterprise and resource. The name of the first was Biigham. The otiicr, I shall allude to, under the name of Enobitti. Some three or four other persons, natives of the region, had consented to go as hunters, or adventurers into a new field for emigration, but it so happened. th;it when all was ready — when every objection to the tour had been obviated, and every want supplied, and when my two eastern friends came on to the ground, these persons all quietly, and with an easy flow of reasons, backed out. In flict, my friend Brigham, was also obliged to relinquish the journey, after he had reached the point of rendezvous, i. e. Potosi. A residence on the American bottom, in Illinois, the prior sum- mer, had exposed him to the malaria of that otherwise attractive agricul- tural area, and an intermittent fever, which he had thus contracted, forbade his venttiving beyond the settlements. So that when the appointed day arrived, Enobitti and myself and my good landlord, Ficklin — a warm hearted Kentuckiiin, who had been a hunter and border spy in his youth, were all the persons I could number, and the latter, only went a short dis- tance, out of the goodness of his heart, and love of forest adventure, to set us, as it were, on the way, and initiate us into some necessary forest arts. It was a bright balmy day, — the 6th of November, 1818. The leaves were rapidly ^tiling from the trees, and strewed the road and made a musical rustling among the branches, as we passed the summits of the mine hills, which separated the valley of Mine a Burton from the next adjoining stream. The air had just enough of the autumn freshness in it, lo make it inspiring ; and wc v/alked forward, with the double animation of health 41 ADVENTUIIKS IN TIIK 0/ARK MOUNTAINS i and lui[)i\ As \vc pnssoJ tliroiioli forests wliere tlic liiduny nboiindod, the fox and jjivy S(|nirrtd wero fiei iifiitly simmi ]iir|iaiinjf llioir winter's stores, and jfiive additional anitnatioii to tlie si'ene. It was early in tlic .'iftfriiomi wlieii we <-ani(.' into the va.ley of lliti f' Creeii — it was indeed but a few miles from our staitinjr |)(>int, wliere our Kind Mentor told lis, it was best to encamp ; for, in the first place, it was the only spot where we could obtain iralrr for a long distance, nnd secondly, and niore important than all. it was necessary that we shoiiM re-arrange the load of our pack- horse, take a lesson in tiie art of encampiny, and mala- some other piepa- r. ais wiiicli were proper, bef( re we plunged outright into the wilderness 'lliis was excellent advice, and proper not only to novices, but even to the initiated in the woodsman's art. It is always an object, to make, by this initiatory movement, what is technically called a start. I had purchased at I'otosi, a horse — a low priced animal, rather old nnd bony, to carry onr blankets, some light cooking utensils and a fi'W other articles of necessity, and some provisions. He bore the not very ajipro- priate name of" Hutcher." whether from a former owner, or how acquired I know not, but he was not of a sanguinary temper, or at least, the only fighting propensity he ever evinced was to get back to Potosi, as quick as possible, for he ran oirthe very first night, and freqiK.'ntly, till we got quite far west, repeated the attempt. The poor beast seemed to know, instinc- tively, th;it he was going away from the land of corn fodder, and would liave li, sustain himself by jiicking up his m(>als out of sere-grass, often in stony places, ,ii in some dense and vine-bound cane bottom, where his hinc' legs would often be bound fist by the green briar, whih; he reached for ward in vain, to bite otF a green leaf Here we took .the first lesson in duly hobbling a horse — a very neces- sary lesson : for if not /ii,li/i/i:i/, he will stray away, and cause great deten- tion in the morning, and if not well hobbled he will iiijre his legs. We found, near the banks of the stream, a deserted Indian lodge, which ap- peared susceptible, by a little eflbrt, of affording us a very comfortable night's lo Iging, and would furthermore, should it rain, prove an effectual shelter. This arrangement we immediately set about : tiie horse was un- packed, his burden sto\ 'ed in the lodge, the horse hobbled and belled, nnd a fire lit. While my companion arranged the details of the camp, and prepared to boil a cup of tea, I look my gun. and. with but litili; ado, shot a number of fine fox and grey squirrels — being the first fruits of our exertions in the chace. Among them, there was one of decidedly mongrel species. If not, the variety was peculiar. He had a grey body, and a icd foxy tail, with the belly, nose, and tips of the ears black, thus uniting' .Iharac- terestics of three varieties. One or two of these were added to our supper, which we made with great satisfaction, and in due time spread out our blankets, and slept soundly till day break. On sallying out, I found the horse was gone, and set out in pursuit of ADVRNTl'RES IN TlIK 0/,ARK MOUNTAINS. 45 Jiim. Alllioiiirli lii.s f,)i(.' fcit wi'K! tithrri'd, so tliiit he inii.«t lift up loth t(i!.M'tlni', lii^ iiiinlc lii.s \v:iy li;icl», in lliis jiiiii|iiiiL; in.miirr, to liis luiiiier owner's door, in llii' vilhigu ot Mine a I'lirlon. lie liinl nm, Iiowi'mt, lvf|il till' piitli. iill till! way, mul losiny liis tnick iiftir hi; i,'-nt on the liciluigc, my f''»r cunyht lli'" sonnH of a lii-ll liir lo tlit> Ici't, which I look to he his, and rolldwcd. [ piirsnr.'d the sound of this lull, which wms only lieiird now iini! llicn. till after i'rf)t:'^in;^ iiill and dalr, without deviation from the lino of .-(iiind, I came out at a farm yard, four miles helow I'i.to>I ; w hero I (ound the liell to he attached to the mick of a stately petimd ox. The ocnor, (who knew me and the circumstance of my havinjf S( t out on the expedition.) told me, that fiutcher had reached the mines, and heen sent hack', by a son of his former owner, to my camp, I hail ik'Iuii;^^ hl'i, hul to retrace my way to the s:ime spot, where I found the fii[:iti\e. and sal down t(j a hreukiiist of tea, hread, iiain and squirrel. The whole mornin.g liad heen lost by this misadventure. It was ton o'clock before we got the animal j):icked and set forward. Uur Second diiy's journey yiiddod but little to remark. We trnvclled diligently along a rough mcuntainous path, across a sterile tract called the 1' nierv. 'I'l ns tract is va luabl on ly for Its nmo tnnber. Ill lus neither firming 1. lid nor mineral wealth. Not a habitation of any kind was pa ssod. We saw neither bird nor animal. I. The sil silence ol desolation Beemed to accompany us. It was a positive relief to the iinifoim steiility of the soil, and monotony of the prospect, to sec at length, a valley before us. It was a branch of the IMaromcg, or IVIerriroack, which is called by its original French It rm of Fouf.lic u Courlolx. Wo had travelled a dis- t nice of fourteen miles over these flinty eminonces. 'I'lio first signs of human habitation appeared in the form of enclosed fields. Tl.e sun sunk below the bills, as we entered this valley, and we soon had the glimpse of a dwelling. Some woodcock flew up as we hastened forward, and we were not long in waiting for our formal announcement in the loud and long continued barking of dogs. It required the stern counnands of their niasier, before they slunk back and became quiet. It was a smill log tenement of the usual construction on the frontiers, and afTonled us the usual hospitality and ready accommodation. They gave us warm cakes of corn bread, and Hue rich niillc. We spread our blankets before an evening's fire, and enjoyed a good night's rest. Butcher here, I think, had liis last meal of corn, and made no attempt to return. With the earliest streaks of day light, we re-adjusted his pack, and igain set forward. 40 ADVENTUUKS IN TIIK O'/AnK MOtfNTAINB. CHAPTER II Ri'iirli n Iiiinlrr'H cubiii nii tin- (lulskirts of tin- wild'Tiirsti — Hi- ngrrcH to nccoiiiputiy UK — I'lilf r lln' O/.iirk IIIIIn — l^n'iiiiiilcr iiii cnciitiijiiiiciit of tin- Dcliiwnro Iiidiaiis— CliurnctiT (if the r'oiiiilrv — ItN ul|Mi>f iiir, iiiiil tin- pwliy of itH waters. — AhcciuI to tlic Koiirc"' of till' .'MiTriiitiicU — Ucacli a (jaiiii' cimiitry — DcHcrtt'd by llio liiinler mid l^iiidc, uiid ul)uiidi)iiud to iiidividiiul •■xiTtioiiii in tlii'He artN, Evr.itv joint labour, which procrcds on the theory, that rach person en- gajjed in it is to remh r some personal service, must, in order that it may go on pleasantly and succeed well, have a definite order, or rule of pro- gri'ss ; and this is as reipiisite in a journey in the wilderness as any where else. Our rule was to le:id the pack horse, and to take tht; comi)ass and guide ahead, alternately, day liy day. It was tiiought, I had the best art in striking and making a fire, and when we halted for the night, always did this, while my conipaiiion procured water and put it in a way to hoil for tea. We carried ten, as beimnigliter and more easy to make than codee. In this way we divi led, as etpially as possible, the daily routine of duties, and went on pleasiiitly. We had now reached the last settlement on the frontier, and after a couple of hours' walk, from our last place of lodging, wc readied the last house, on the outer verge of the wilderness. It was a small, newly erected log hut, occupied by a hunter of the name of Ro- berts, and distant about '20 miles from, and south-west of I'otosi. Our ap- proach here was also heralded by dogs. Had we been wolves or pan- thcis, creeping upon the premises at midnight, they could not have performed their duty more noisily. Truly this was a very primitive dwelling, and as recent in its structure as it was primitive. Large fallen trees lay about, just as the a.xeman had felled them, and partly consumed by fire. The effect of this partial burning hud been only to render these huge trunks black and hideous. One of them lay in front of the cottage. In other places were to be seen doer skins stretched to dry; and deers' feet and antlers lay here and there. There was not a foot of land in cultivation. It was (juite evident at first sight, that we had reached the dwelling of a border hunter, and not a tiller of the ground. But the owner was absent, as we learned from his wife, a spare, shrewd dark-skinned little woman, drest in buckskin, who issued from the dooi before we reached it, and welcomed us by the term of '• Strangers." Al though this is a western term, which supplies the place of the word "friend," in other sections of the union, and she herself seemed to bo thoroughly a native of these latitudes, no Yankee could have been more inquisitive. In one particular department of enquiry, namely the de- partment relative to the chace. She inquired our object — the course and distance we proposed tc travel, and the general arrangements of horse- ADVENTUKF.S IN TUK OZAHK MuLNTAINB. €t have nitivc uiued these and ot of had ound. rewd dooi Al word to bo been ihc do- se and horse- ppnr, oqiiipiii^o, «.Vi\ She told tK> of iho d;iii;,Mr of eiicouutcritig the ()s;igc-!«, timl .scnitini/i'd our iirrii.s. .'^iich un cxuiiiinatinii would indeed, for its th()roni;hni.'9M, have put a 1, 1 to hin trutnps, who had cunio prepared for his (iist (piarter's exaininatioti at a country iicadeiny. She told u*', ron iiniore, tli.it her hn>hand would he hack soon, — as soon inJeed .'IS we could j»et our hrealifist, and that he would he glad to accompany us, us far us Ashley's Cave, or perhaps farther. This was un opportunity not to bo slighted. We ngreed to wait, and [)rcp:ire o\ir niorning'a meal, to which she contiibiited sonic well hiked corn cakes. Uy this time, and hefore indeed ue had been long there, UoluMt.s came in. It is said that a hunter's life is a life of feasting or ''••.',;„jr. It apjiearud to be one of the latter seasons, with him. He had been out to scour the precincts, for a nient lireakfi^t, but came liome empty handed. lie was desirous to go out in the direction we were stei'ring, wiiich he represented to uhound in game, lint feared to venture fir alone, on account of the ras- cally Osage.s. lie did not fear the Delawaiis, who were near by. Me readily accepted our oilier to accompany us as hunter. Robeits, like his forest hehvmate, was clothed in deer skin. He was a rather chunky, stout, middle sized man, with a ruddy face, canning features, and a bright UM.'^tritdy fyc. Such a fellow'i (Inal deslinaliun would not Le a very ecpiivocal tnaUer, wi're he a resident of the broad neighbourhood of Sing Sing, or "sweet Auburn;" hut here, lie was a man that might, perhaps, be trusted on an occasion like this, and we, at any rate, were glad to have his services on the terms stipulated. Even while we were talk- ing he liegan to cle.in his rifle, and adju.st his leathern accoutrements: he then put si'veral large cakes of corn bread in a sack, and in a very short time he brought a stout little horse out of a log pen, which served for a barn ; and clapping an old saddle on his back and niountiiig him, witii his rifle' in one lunvl, said, " I am re.uly," and led olT. Wo now had a guide, as W( II as a hunter, and threw this burden wdioUy on him. Onr course lay up a long ridge of hard bound clay and chert soil, in the direction of the sources of the Maramcg, or, as it is now uni- ver.sally call'-d and written, Merrimack. After travelling about four miles we suddenly descended from an acclivity into a grassy, woodless valley, with a brisk clear stream winding through it, and several lodges of Indians planted on its borders. Tiiis, onr guide told us, was the Ozaw Fork of the Merrimack-, (in modern geographical parlance Ozark ) And here we found the descendants and remainder of that once powerful tribe of whom William Pcnn purchased the site of Philadeiphia, and whoso ancient dominion extended, al the earliest certain historical era, along the banks the Ivnuaiiiliiltuck, or Delaware river. Two of them were at home, it being a season of the year, and time of day, when the men are out hunting. .Tiidging fiom peculiarity of features, manners and dress, it would seem to be impossible that any people, should have re- 48 AI)Vi:.\TlIlti;.S IN TUK 0/,AllK i'MOUNTAINS. iTiiiiiivl SO \ong ill cotitTtU wiih or jiixtupositioii to the European riicc.i nnil cliangeJ so little, in .ill that constitiitos national anil personal iilrntitj'. Roberts loolii'd with no very frictnlly eye upon these aiiei(;nt lords of the forest, the whol,'.^ smii of his philosoj)hy an. I philanti)ro]iy beinir measured by the very tangible circle of praiiie ami forests, which narrowed his own huntinii^ ^■•i-outuls. They were even then, deemed to have been injudici- ously locatirl, by intellitition, but all the carbonaceous pailiclesol the top soil have been burned, leaving the surface in the autumn, rough, red, dry and hard. When a plough comes to be put into such a surface, it throws up rpiite a ditll'rent soil ; and the ofiects of light, and the son's heat are often found, as I have noticed in other parts of the west, to pro- duce a dark and comparatively rich soil. We occupied the entire day in ascending and crossing the ridge of land, which divides the little valley of the Oza from that of the Merritnack. When getting near the latter, the soil exhibited traces of what appeared to be iroa ore, but somewhat peculiar in its character, and of dark Ime; ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 49 !• This soun revealed itself, in passing a short distance, in an abundant lo- cality of black and coloured oxide of manganese — lying in masses in the arid soil. Tlie Indian trail which we were pursuing led across the val- ley We forded the river on foot. No encampments of Indian;) were found, nor any very recent traces of chem ; and we began to think that the accounts of Osage depredations and plundering, must be rather exag- gerated. The river pours its transparent mountain waters over a wide bed of pebbles and small boulders, and, at ihis season, offered but little im- podirnetit to the horses or ourselves in crossing it. The sun was getting low, by the time we reached the opposite side of the valley, and we en- camped on its borders, a mile or two above. Here we took due care of our horses, prepnrcd our evening's meal, talked over the day's adven- tures, enjoyed ourselves silting before our camp fire, with the wild wide creation before us and around, and then sank to a sound repose on our palK-ts. Novices in the woodman's art, and raw in the business of travelling, our sleep was sounder and more death-like, than that of Roberts. His eye had shown a restlessness during the afternoon and evening. We were now in a game country, the deer and elk began to be frequently seen, and their fresh tracks across our path, denoted their abundance. During 'lie night they ventured about our camp, so as to disturb the ears of the weary hunter, and indeed, my own. He got up and found both horses missing. Butcher's memory of Mine & Burton corn fodder had not deseiled him, and he took the hunter's horse along with him. 1 jumped up, and accompanied him, in their pursuit. They were both overtaken about three miles back on the track, making all possible speed homeward, that their tethered fore legs would permit. We conducted them back, without disturbing my companion, and he then went out with his rifle, and quickly brought in a fine fat doe, for our breakfast. Each one cut fine pieces of steaks, and roasted for himself! We ate it with a little salt, and the remainder of the hunter's corn cakes, and finished the repas', with a pint cup each, of Enobitti's best tea. This turned out to be a finale meal with our Fourche a Courtois man, Roberts: for the rascui, a few hours afterwards, deserted us, and went back. Had he given any intima- tion of dissatisfaction, or a dt'*irc lu returti; we sliould have been in a measure prepared for it. It is probable his fears of the then prevalent bug- bear of those frontiersmen, the Usages, were greater than our own. It is also probable, tliiit he had no other iJea whatever, in leavingthe Fourche £l Coiiilois, than to avail himself of our protection till he could get into a region where he could shoot deer enough in a single morning to load down his horse, with the choicest pieces, and lead him home. This the event, at least, rendered probable; and the fellow not only deserted us meanly, but he carried ofl^ my best new hunting knife, with scabbard and belt — a loss not easily repaired in such a place. a > I 60 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. To cloak his plan, he set out with us in the morning: it had rained a little,, during the latter part of the night, and was lowering and dark all the morning. After travelling about ten miles, we left the Osage trail, which began to bear too lar north-west, and struck through the woods in a south course, with the view of reaching Ashley's Cave on one of the head streams of the river currents. Soon after leaving this trail, Roberts, who was in advance on our left, about half a mile, fired at, and killed, a deer, and immediately re-loaded, pursued and fired again ; telling us to continue on our course, as he, being on horseback, could easily overtake us. We neither heard nor saw more of him. Night overtook us near the banks of a small lake, or rather a series of little lakes or ponds, communicating with each other, where we encamped. After despatching our supper, and adjusting, in talk, the day's rather eventful incidents, and the morrow's plan of march, we committed ourselves to rest, but had not sunk into forgetful- ness, when a pack of wolves set up their howl in our vicinity. We had been told that these animals will not approach near a fire, and are not l^i be dreaded in a country where deer abound. They follow the track of the hunter, to share such part of the carcass as he leaves, and it is their nature to herd together and run down this animal as their natural prey. We slept well, but it is worthy of notice, that on awaking about day break, the howling of the wolves was still heard, and at about the same distance. They had probably serenaded us all night. Our fire was nearly out; wo felt some chilliness, and determined to rekindle it, and prepare our breakfast before setting forward. It was now certain, that Roberts waa gone. Luckily he had not carried oflf our compass, for that would have been an accident fatal to the enterprise. CHAPTER III. A deeper view of the Ozark Cliain. Pass along the flanks of the highlands which send out the sources of the Black, Eleven points, Currents and Spring rivers. Reach a romantic glen of caves. Birds and animals seen. Saltpetre earth ; stalactites Cross the alpine summit of the western Ozarks. Source of the Gasconde river Accident in fording the Little Osage river. — Encamp on one of its tributaries. ■ I'-as found, as we began to bestir ourselves for wood to light our fire T.1, • \ve had reposed not far from a bevy of wild ducks, who had sought the grassy edge of the lake during the night, and with the first alarm be- took themselves to flight. With not so ready a mode of locomotion, we followed their example, in due time, and also their course, which was south. At the distance of a couple of miles, we crossed a small stream, running south-east, which we judged to be the outlet of the small lakes referred to, and which is, probably the source of Black River, or the Eleven points. Our course ltd us in an opposite direction, and we soon foimd ourselves approaching the sterile hills which bound the romantic valley of the currents. There had been some traces of wheels, on the softer soil, which had been driven in this direction towards the saltpetre caves, but we completely lost them, as we came to and ascended these arid and rugged steeps. Some of these steeps rose into dizzy and romantic clilFs, surmounted with pines. We wound our way cautiously amongst tiiem, to find some gorge and depression, through which we might enter the valley. For ouiselvos we should not have been so choice of a path, but we had a pack horse to lead, and should he be precipitated into a gulf, we must bid adieu to our cnmp equipage. Our arms and a single blanket, would be all we could carry. At length this summit was reached. The view was enchanting. A winding wooded valley, with its clear bright river, stretched along at the base of the summit. Rich masses of foliage, hung over the clear stream, and were reflected in. its pellucid current, with a doubli! beauty. Tlie autumnal frost, which had rifled the highland trees of their clothing, appeared to have passed over this deeply secluded valley ?! 1 1 1 i 1 4' ^'f|:' 52 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. with but little effect, and this effect, was only to highten the interest of the scene, by imparting to portions of its foliage, the liveliest orange and crim- son tints. And this was rendered doubly attractive by the contrast. Be- hind us lay the bleak and barren hills, over which we had struggled, without a shade, or a brook, or even the simplest representative of the ani- mal creation. For it is a truth, that during the heat of the day, both buds and quadrupeds betake themselves to the secluded sh..-.es of the streams and vallics. From these they sally out, into the plains, in quest of food at early dawn, and again just before night fall. All the rest of the day, the plains and highlands have assumed the silence of desolation. Even- ing began to approach as we cautiously picked our way down the cliffs, and the first thing we did, on reaching the stream was to take a hearty drink of its crystal treasure, and let our horse do the same. The next ob- ject was to seek a fording place — which was effected without difficulty. On mounting the southern bank, we again found the trail, lost in ttie morning, and pursued it with alacrity. It was my turn this day to be in advance, as guide, but the temptation of small game, as we went up th« valley, drew me aside, while Enobitti proceeded to select a suitable spot for the night's encampment. It was dark when I rejoined him, with my squirrel and pigeon hunt. He had confined himself closely to the trail. It soon led him out of the valley, up a long brushy ridge, and then through an open elevated pine grove, which terminated abruptly in a per- pendicular precipice. Separated from this, at some eight hundred yards distance, stood a counter precipice of limestone rock, fretted out, into pin- nacles and massy walls, with dark openings, which gave the whole the resemblance of architectural ruins. The stream that ran between these cliffs, was small, and it lay so deep and well embrowned in the shades of evening, that it presented vividly from this elevation, a waving bright line on a dark surface. Into this deep dark terrific glen the path led, and here we lit our fire, hastily constructed a bush camp, and betook ourselves, after due ablutions in the little stream, to a night's repose. The sky be- came rapidly overcast, before we had finished our meal, and a night of intense darkness, threatenmg a tempest, set in. As we sat by our fire, its glare upon huge beetling points of overhanging rocks, gave the scene a wild and picturesque cast: and we anticipated returning daylight with an anxious wish to know and see our exact locality. By the restless tramp- ing of our horse, and the tinkling of his bell, we knew that he had found but indifl'erent picking. Daylight fulfilled the predictions of the evening. We had rain. It also revealed our position in this narrow, and romantic glen. A high wall of rocks, encompassed us on either hand, but they were not such as would have r'^sulted in a volcanic country from a valley fissure. Narrow and deep as the glen was, it was at once apparent, that it was a valley of de- nudation, and had owed its existence to the wasting effects of the trifling ; ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 53 Stream within it. carrying away, particle by particle, the matter loosened by rains and frosls, anJ mechanical attrition. The cliffs are exclusively calcareous, and piled up, mason like, in horizontal layers. One of the most striking pictures which they presented, was found in the great num- ber, size and variety of caves, which opened into this calcareous formation. These caves are of all sizes, some of them very large, and not a few of them situated at elevations above the floor of the glen, which forbade ac- cess. One of our first objects, after examining the neighbourhood, was to re- move our baggage and location up the glen, into one of these caves, which at the distance of about a mile, promised us an effectual shelter from the inclemency of the storm. This done, we determined here to wait for settled weather, and expJore the precincts. By far the most prominent object, among the caverns, was the one into which we had thus uncere- moniously thrust ourselves It had evidently been visited before, by per sons in search of saltpetre earth. Efflorescences of nitric earth, were abundant in its fissures, and this salt was also present in masses of reddish diluvial earth, which lay in several places. The mouth of this cave pre- sented a rude irregular arc, of which the extreme height was probably thirty feet, and the base line ninety. The floor of this orifice occurs, at an elevation of about forty feet above the stream. And this size is held for about two hundred feet, when it expands into a lofty dome, some eighty or ninety feet high, and perhaps, three hundred in diameter. In its centre a fine spring of water issues from the rock. From this dome several pas- sages lead off in different directions. One of these opens into the glen, at an inaccessible point, just below. Another runs back nearly at right angles with the mouth, putting out smaller passages, of not much importance, however, in its progress. So S'plendid and noble an entrance gave us the highest hopes of finding it but the vestibule of a natural labyrinth ; but the result disappointed us. These ample dimensions soon contract, and after following the main or south passage about five hundred yards, we found our further entrance barred, by ma.sscs of fallen rock, at the foot of which a small stream trickled through the broken fragments, and found its way to the mouth. Have we good reason to attribute to this small stream, a power sufficient to be re- garded as the effective agent in carrying away the calcareous rock, so as to have in a long period produced the orifice? Whence then, it may be asked, the masses of compact reddish clay and pebble diluvium, which exist? These sei-m rather to denote that these caves were open orifices, during the p'^riod of oceanic action, upon the surface of the Ozarks, and that a mass of waters, surcharged with such materials, flowed into pre- existing caverns. This diluvium is, in truth, of the same era as the wide spread stream of like kind, which has been deposited over the metalliferous region of Missouri. If these, however, be questions for geological doubt, m 54 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. we had lit upon another inquiry, very prominent on our minds in making this exploration, namely, whetlier there weic any wild beasts sheltered in its fissures. Satisfied that we were safe on this score, we re traced ou' footsteps to our fire, and sallied out to visit other caves. Most of the e .vera at such heights as prevented access to them. In one in- stance, a tree had fallen against the face of the cViif, in such a manner that by climbing it to its forks, and taking one of the latter, llie openuig might be reached. Putting a small mineral hammer in my pocket, I as ccnded this tree, and found the cave accessible. It yielded some wax yellow and white translucent stalactites, and also very delicate white crys tals of nitre. The dimensions of this cave were small, and but little higher than to enable a man to stand upright. In each of the caves of this glen which I entered, during a halt of several days in this vicinity, I looked closely about for fossil bones, but without success in any instance. The only article of this kind observed was the recent leg and foot bones and vertebra of the bos musarius, which appeared to be an inhabitant of the uppermost fissures in these cal- careous clifls, but I never saw the living species, although I ranged along their summits and bases, with my gun and hammer, at various hours. Some of the compact lime stone in the bed of the creek exhibited a striped and jaspery texture. The wood-duck and the duck and mallard some- times frequented this secluded stream, and it was a common resort for the wild turkey, at a certain hour in the evening. This bird seemed at such times to come in thirsty, from its ranges in quest of acorns on the up- lands, and its sole object appeared to be to drink. Sitting in the mouth of our cave, we often had a fine opportunity to sec flocks of these noisy and fine birds flying down from the clifl's, and perching on the trees below us. If they came to roost, as well as to slack their thirst, a supposition probable, this was an ill-timed movement, so long as we inhabited the glen, for they only escaped the claw and talons of one enemy, to fall before the fire-lock of the other. This bird, indeed, proved our best resource on the journey, for we travelled with too much noise and want of precaution generally, to kill the deer and elk, which, however, were abundant on the highland plains. We passed three days at the Glen Cave, during which there were se- veral rains; it stormed one entire day, and we employed the time of this confinement, in preparing for the more intricate and unknown parts of our journey. Hitherto we had pursued for the most of the way, a trail, and were cheered on our way, by sometimes observing traces of human labour. But, from this point we were to plunge into a perfect wilderness, without a trace or track. We had before lis, that portion of the Ozark range, which separates to the right and left, the waters of the Missouri from those of the Mississippi. It was supposed, from the best reports, that by holding south-west, across these eminences, we should strike the valley ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 55 oi the White River, which interposed itself between our position there and the Arkansas. To enter upon this tract, with our compass only as a guide, and with the certainty of finding no nutritious grass for our horse, required that we should lighten and curtail our baggage as much as pos- sible, and put all our effects into the most compact and portable form. And having done this, and »1 " weather proving settled, we followed a short distance up fh- llei. waves ; but finding it *" l*"'d too directly west, we soon left it ai.„ mount . .he hills which line it^ ^^niern border. A number of latter valleys, covered with thick brush, made this a labour by no means slight. The surface was rough; vegetal .on sere and dry, and every thicket which spread before us, presented an obstacle which was to be overcome. We could have penetrated many of these, which the horse could not be forced through. Such parts of our clothing as did not consist of buckskin, paid frequent tribute to these brambles. At length we got clear of these spurs, and entered on a high waving table land where travelling became comparatively easy. The first view of this vista of nigh land plains was magnificent. It was covered with moderate sized sere grass and dry seed pods, which rustled as we passed. There was scarcely an object deserving the name of a tree, except, now and then, a solitary trunk of a dead pine, or oak, which had been scathed by light- ning. The bleached skull of the buffalo, was sometimes met, and proved that this animal had once existed here. Rarely we passed a stunted oak ; sometimes a cluster of saplings crowned the summit of a sloping hill ; the deer often bounded before us; we sometimes disturbed the hare from its eheltering bush, or put to flight the quail or the prairie hen. There was no prominent feature for the eye to rest upon. The unvaried prospect produced satiety. We felt in a peculiar manner the solitariness of the wilderness. We travelled silently and diligently. It was a dry and thirsty barren. From morning till sun set we did not encounter a drop of water. This became the absorbing object. Hill after hill, and vale after vale were patiently scanned, and diligently footed, without bringing the ex- pected boon. At length we came, without the expectation of it, to a small running stream in the plain, where we gladly encamped. There was also some grass which preserved a greenish hue, and which enabled our horse also to recruit himself. Early iho next morning we repacked him, and continued our course, travelling due west south-west. At the distance of five or six miles, we reached the banks of a clear stream of twenty feet wide, running over a bed of pebbles and small secondary boulders. This stream ran towards the north west, and gave us the first intimation we had, that we had crossed the summit and were on the off* drain of the Missouri. We sup- posed it to be the source of the Gasconade, or at farthest some eastern tri- butary of the Little Osage. A few hours travelling brought us to the banks of another stream of :i i 66 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. much larger size and depth, but running in the same direction. This stream we found it difficult to cross, and spent several hours in heaping piles of stone, and connecting them with dry ....ibs of trees, which had been carried down by floods. It had a rapid and deep current, on each side of which was a wide space of shallow water and rolled boulders of lime and sand stone. Wo succeeded in driving the horse safely over. Enobitti led the way on our frail bridge-work, but disturbed the last link of it as he jumped off on the south bank, so that it turned under my tread and let me in. There was no kind of danger in the fall as it was in the shallow part of the stream, but putting out my hands to break the full, it so happened that my whole weight rested on my gun, which was supported on two stones, merely on its butt and muzzle ; the effect was to wrench the bairel. I gave it a counter wrench as soon as we encamped, but I never afterwards could place full confidence in it. We hnd not gone over three or four miles beyond this river, when we came to the banks of a third stream, running west, but also sweeping off below, towards the north- west. This stream was smaller than the former and opposed no dif- ficulty in fording it. Having done this we followed it up a short distance., and encamped on its south banKa. lis >g ad ch of er. nk ad he so led the ver ree ird rth- dif- ice, I CHAPTER IV. Hearsay information of tlie hunters turns out false — We niter our course — A bear hunt — An accidont — Another rencontre with bears — Strike the source of the Great North Fork of Wiiite River — Journey down tliis valley — lis character and productions — A great S])ring — Incidents of the route — Puck horse rolls down n precipice — Plunges in the river — A cavern — Osage lodges — A hunter's hut. It was now manifest, from our crossing the last two streams, that we were going too far north — that we were in fact in the valley of the Mis- souri proper ; and that the information ohtaincd of the hunters on the source of the Merrimack, was not to he implicitly relied on. It is not probable that one of the persons who gave this information had ever been here. It was a region they were kept out of by the fear of the Osages, as our own ex- perience in the case of Roberts denoted. Willing to test it farther, how- ever, we followed down the last named stream a few miles, in the hope of its turning south or south-west, but it went olT in another direction. We then came to a halt, and after consiihing together, steered our course due sou/A south-west, thus varying our general course from the caves. This carried us up a long range of wooded highlands. The forest here as- sumed a handsome growth. We passed through a track of the over-cup oak, interspersed with hickory, and had reached the summit of an elevated wooded ridge, when just as we gained the highest point, we discovered four bears on a large oak, in the valley before us. Three of the number were probably cubs, and with their dam, they were regaling themselves on the ripe acorns without observing us. We had sought no opportunities to Itunt, and given up no especial time to it, but here was too fair a chal- lenge to be neglect" d. We tied our horse securely to a sapling, and then examining our pieces, and putting down an extra ball, set out to descend die hili as cautiously as possible. An unlucky slip of Enobitti threw him with force forward and sprained his nnKIe. He lay for a short time in tgony. This noise alarmed the bears, who one after the other quickly run in from the extremities ot the I'-nbs to the trunk, which they descended 57 '!! 11 58 ADVKNTUIIES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. head first, and scampered clumsily olF up the valley. I pursued tnem without minding my companion, not knowing, indeed how badly he was hurt, but was compelled to give up the chase, as the tall grass finally pre- vented my seeing what course tln-y had taken. 1 now returned to my companion. He could not stand at first, nor walk when he arose, and the first agony had passed. I proposed to mount him on tiie pack horse, and lead him slowly up the valley, and this plan was carried into educt. But ho endured too much sufitring to bear even this. The ankle began to in- flame. There was nothing but rest and continued repose that promised relief. 1 selected a fine grassy spot to encamp, unpacked the horse, built a fire, and got my patient comfortably stretched on his pallet. But little provision had been made at Potosi in the medical depaitment. My whole store of pharmacy consisted of some pills and salves, and a few simple articles. The only thing I could think of as likely to be serviceable, was in our culinary puck, — it was a little sack of salt, and of this I made a solution in warm water and bathed the ankle. 1 then replenished the fire and cut some wood to renew it. It was still early in the day, and leaving my companion to rest, and to the cfTect of the remedy ofltred, i took my gun and strolled over the adjoining hills, in hopes of bringing in some pigeons, or other small game. But it was a time of day when both birds and quadrupeds have finished their mornings repast, ai J retiretf to the groves or fastnesses. I saw nothing but the little grey bunting, and the noisy jay. When I returned to our camp in the vale I found my companion easier. The bathing had sensibly alleviated the pain and swelling. It was therefore diligently renewed, und the next morning he was so far improved, that he consented to try the pack horse again. We had not, however, travelled far, when two large bears were seen before us play- ing in the grass, and so engaged in their sport, that ihey did not perceive us. We were now on the same level with them, and quickly prepared to give them battle. My companion disinountcd as easily as possible, and having secured the horse and examined our arms, we reached a stand within firing distance. It was not till this moment that our approach was discovered by them, and the first thing they did after running a few yards, was to sit up in the grass and gaze at us. Having each singled his animal, we fired at the same instant. Both animals fied, but on reaching the spot where my mark had sat, blood was copiously found on the grass, and a pursuit was the consequence. I followed him up a long ridge, but he passed over the summit so i'ar before me, that I lost sight of him. I came to a large hol- low black oak, in the direction he had disappeared, wiiich showed the nail marks of some animal, which I believed to be his. While exa- mining these signs more closely my companion made his appear- ance. How he had got there I know not. The excitement had well nigh cured his ancle He stood by the orifice, while I went for the axe to our camp, and when I was tired chopping, he laid hold. } ADVENTURES IN THE OZ.VIIK MOUNTAINS. fi9 Wo chopped alternately, and big as it was, the tree at last came down with a crash that made the forest ring. For a few moments we looked nt the huge and partly broken trunk as if a bear would start from it ; but all was silence. We thoioughly searched the iiollow part but found nothing. I wont over another ridge of forest land, started a noble elk, but saw nothing more of my bear. Hero terminated this adventure. W^e retraced our footsteps back to the valley, and proceeded on our route. Tiiis inci- dent had led us a little south of our true course; and it so turned out that it was atn point, where a mile or two one way or the other, was calculated to make a wide difference in the place of our e.\it into the valley of White River ; for we were on a high broken summit ridge, from which several important streams originated. The pursuit of the bear had carried ns near to the head of the valley, and by crossing the intervening summit, we found ourselves at the head springs of an important stream, which in due time we learned was the Great North Fork of White River. This stream begins to develope itself m pools, or standing springs, which soak through the gravel and boulders, and it is many miles before it assumes the cha- racter of a continuous strean.. Even tiven it proceeds in plateaux or steps, on which the water has a level, and the ne.\t succeeding level below it has its connection with it, through a rapid. In fact, the whole stream, till near its mouth, is one series of these lake-like levels, and short rapids, each level sinking lower and lower, till, like the locks in a canal, the last flows out on a level with its final recipient. But however its waters are congregated, they are all pure and colourless as rock crystal, and well vin- dicate the propriety of their original name of la Ririire Jitu/ic. Th(;y all originate in mountain springs, are cool and sparkling, and give assurance in this feature, that they will carry heahh to the future inhabitants of the valley through which they flow. With the first springs begins to be seen a small growth of the cane, which is found a constant species on its bot- tom lands. This plant becomes high in more southern latitudes, and being intertwined with the green briar, renders it very difficult, as we soon found, to penetrate it, especially with a horse. Man can endure a thousand ad- ventures and hardships where a horse would die; and it would require no further testimony than this journey gave, to convince me, that providence designed the horse for a state of civilization. We followed the course of these waters about six miles, and emcamped. It was evidently the source of a stream of some note. It ran in the re- quired direction, and although we did not then know, that it was the valley of the Great North Fork of White River, we were satisfied it was a tributary of the latter stream, and determined to pursue it. This we did for twelve days, before we met with a human being, white or red. It rapidly developed itself, as we went, and unfolded an important valley, of rich soil, bearing a vigorous growth of forest trees, and enclosed on either hand, by elevated limestone clifls. Nothing could exceed the purity of ii ^^'fPFI^WWf ■ ■0 AOVENTURKB IN TIIR OZARK MOUNTAINS. its waters, whicli bublileJ up in copious springs, from the rock, or pebble stratum. For a long distunce ttit; stream iiicrcu^ed from such ucccssions alono, without hirgo and induptMident tributurics. Un the second day's travel, wo ciitno to a spring, of this crystal chiirucler, which we judged to bo about (ii\y ('eet across, at the point of its issue from the rock and soil, its outlet after running about a thousand yards. Joined the main stream, to which it brings a volume fully ecpial to it 'J'his spring i named the Elk Spring, from the circumstance of finding a large pair of the horns of this animal, partly buried in the leaves, at a spot where 1 stooped down to drink. I took the horns, and hung them in the forks of a young oak tree. We found abundance of game in this valley. There was not an entire day, I think, until we got near the hunters' camps, that we did not see either the bear, elk, or deer, or their recent signs. Flocks of the wild tur- key were of daily occurrence. The gray sijuirrcl frequently sported on the trees, and as the stream increased in size, we found the duck, brant and swan. There were two serious objections, however, in travelling down a wooded valley Its shrubbery was so thick and rank that it was next to impossible to force the pack horse through it. Wherever the cane abounds, and this comprehends all its true alluvions, it is found to be matted to- gether, as it were, with the green briar and grape vine. So much noiso attended the cflort at any rate, that the game generally fled before us, and had it not been for small game, we should have often wanted a meal. With every effort, we could not make an average of more than fourteen miles a day. The river was so tortuous too, that we could not count, on making more than half this distance, in a direct line. To remedy these evils we sometimes went out of the valley, on the open naked plains. It was a relief, but had, in the end, these diHiculties, that while the plains exposed us to greater heats in travelling, they afforded no water, and we often lost much time in the necessity, we were under, towards night-fall, of going back to the valley for water. Neither was it found to be safe to travel far separated, for there were many causes of accident, which rendered mutual assistance desirable. One day, while Enobitti led the horse, and was conducting him from a lofty ridge, to get into the valley, the animal stumbled, and rolled to the bottom. We thought every bone in his body had been broke, but he had been protected by his pack, and we found that he was but little injured, and when repacked, still capable of going forward. On another occasion, 1 had been leading him for several hours, along a high terrace of cliffs on the left banks where this terrace was, as it were, suddenly cut off" by the intersection of a lateral valley. The view was a sublime one, standing at the pinna- cle of junction ; but there was no possible way of descent, and it was neces- sary to retrace my steps, a long — long way. As an instance of the very ADVENTURES IN THE OZAHK MOUNTAINS. 61 lorttious character of thiri Mrcain, I will inciilion that a rocky peninsula, causing n botxi which it took my companion somi; two hours to pass, with the horse, I had cniJiscil in less ihaii twiiiiy minutes, with my hammer and gun. When wo iiad, as we supposed, beconjo I'amiliar with every species of inipe'iiment and delay, in descending the valley, a new, and very serious and unexpected one, arose one day, in crossing' the stream, from the left to the rij^ht bmik. It was iii) turn to be muleteer that day, and I had selected a ford where the river was not wide, and the water, apparently, some two or three feet deep. I judged from the clearness of the pebbles at the bottom, and their apparent nearnes:' .o the surface. But such was the transparency of the water, that a wid(! mistake wm made. We had nearly lost the horse, he plunged in over head, ct'ild nci touch bottom, and when with great ado, we had got him up l!'e steep he-ik on the other side, he was completely exhausted. But this was not the extent of the evil. t)ur sugar and salt were dissolved. Our meal, of which a little still remained, was spoiled, Our tea was damaged, — our blankets and cloth- ing wetted, — our whole pack soaked. The horse had been so Kv^, '.i\ the water, in our often fruitless efforts to get him to some part of the bnnl; depressed enough, to pull hun up, that nothing had escaped its effects. We encamped on the spot, and spent the rest of the day in drying our cfTects, and expelling from our spare garments the superfluous moisture. The next day we struck out into the high plains, on the right bank, and made a good day's journey. The country was nearly level, denud d of trees, with sere autumnal grass. Often the prairie hen started up, but we saw nothing in the animal creation beside, save a few hares, as even- ing came on. To find water for the horse, and ourselves, we were again compelled to approach the valley. We at length entered a dry and desolate gorge, without grass or water. Night came on, but no sound or sight of water occurred. We were sinking dcep^ ^i' ■' deeper into the rocky structure of the country at every step, and tn.jM found there were high clitTs on either side of us. What we most feared now occurred. It became dark, the clouds had threatened foul weather and it now began to rain. Had it not been for a cavern, which diiiclosed itself, in one of these calcareous cliffs, we must have pas.-(\! a miserable night. On enter- ing It, we found a spring of water. It was too high in the cliff to get the hoise in, but we carried him W)ter in a vessel. He was afterwards hob- bled, and left to shift for himself. On striking a fire, in the cave, its rays disclosed misses of stalactites, and a dark avenue into the rocks back. Having made a cup of tea and finished our repast, we determined to ex- plore the cavo before lying down to rest, lest we might be intruded on by some wild animal before morning. A torch of pine wood was soon made, which guided our footsteps mto the dismal recess, but we found nothing of the kind. On returning to our fire, near the mouth of the cave, we found the rain had increased to a heavy shower, and the vivid flashes of 62 ADVENTUUES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. lightning, illumined with momentary brilliancy, the dark and frowning precipices of this romantic gorge. The excitement and novelty of our po- sition, served to drive away sleep, notwithstanding a long day's march, and it was late before we sought repose. Morning brought a clear sky, but the horse was gone. He had fol- lowed on the back track, up the glen, in search of something to feed upon, and was not found till we reached the skirts of the plains. The whole morning was indeed, lost in reclaiming him, and we then set forward again and returned to the North Fork valley. We found it had assumed a greater e.vpansc, at the point of our re-entry, which it maintained, and increased, as we pursued it down. Wide open oak plains extended on the left bank, which appeared very eligible for the purposes of set- tlement. On an oak tree, at this spot, we observed some marks, which had probably been made by some enterprising land explorer. With these improved evidences of its character for future occupation, we found the travelling easier. Within a few miles travel, we noticed a tributary com- ing in on the left bank, and at a lower point another on the left. The first stream had this peculiarity, that its waters came in at a right angle, with the parent stream, and with such velocity as to pass directly across its channel to the opposite bank. In this vicinity, we saw many of the deserted pole camps of the Osages, none of which appeared, however, to have been recently occupied. So far, indeed, we had met no hindrance, or annoyance from this people ; we had not even encountered a single mem- ber of the tribe, and felt assured that the accounts we had received of their cruelty and rapacity, had been grossly exaggerated, or if not wholly overcoloured, they must have related to a period in their history, which was now well nigh past. We could not learn that they had hunted on these lands, during late years, and were afterwards given to understand that they had ceded them to the United States by a treaty concluded at St. Loi'is. From whatever causes, however, the district had been left free from their roving parties, it was certain that the game had recovered un- der such a cessation of the chase. The black bear, deer and elk, were abundant. We also frequently saw signs of the labours of the beaver along the valley. I had the good luck, one day, while in advance with my gun, of beholding two of these animals, at play in the stream, and ob- eerving their graceful motions. My position was, within point blank shot of them, but I was screened from their gaze. I sat, with gun cocked, meaning to secure one of them after they came to the shore. Both ani- mals came out together, and sat on the bank at the edge of the river, a ledge of rocks being in the rear of them. The novelty of the sight led me to pauRv?, and admire them, when, all of a sudden, they darted into a crevice in the rock. On the second day after re-entering the valley, we descried, on descend- ing a long slope of rising ground, a hunter's cabin, covered with narrow ilii ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 63 oak boards, split with a frow; and were exliilaratcd with the idea of find- ing it occupied. But this turned out a dehjsive hope. It had been de- serted, from appearance, the year before. Wc found, among the surround- ing weeds, a few stems of the cotton plant, which had grown up from seeds, accidentally dropped. The bolls hud opened. I picked out the cotton to serve as a material in lighting my camp fires, at night, this be- ing a labour which I h;id taken the exclusive management of The site of this camp, had been well chosen. There was a small stream in front, and a heavy rich cane bottom behind it, extending to the banks of the river. A handsome point of woodlands extended north of it, from the immediate door of the camp. And although somewhat early in the day, we determined to encamp, and soon made ourselves masters of the fabric, and sat down before a cheerful fire, with a title to occupancy, which there was no one to dispute. free un- were aver with ob- shot ked, ani- er, a led nto a :end- rrow THE BIRD. VERSIFIED FROM THE GERMAN OF GESSNER : 1812. A swain, as he strayed through the grove. Had caught a young bird on a spray — What a gift, he exclaimed, for my love, How beautiful, charming, and gay. With rapture he viewed the fair prize. And listened with joy to its chat, As with haste to the meadow he hies To secure it beneath his straw hat. I will make of yon willows so gay, A cage for my prisoner to mourn, Then to Delia, the gift I'll convey, And beg for a kiss in return. She will grant me that one, I am sure, For a present so rare and so gay. And I easily can steal a few more And bear them enraptured away. He returned ; but imagine his grief. The wind had his hat overthrown. And the bird, in the joy of relief. Away with his kisses had flown. H. a a. W" ! " ' "',ia ii .,t. i iji i ! i |yM, W ' «i ..;.J'' » j« i .| i ■I 'JijIjli ip K^ PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS OF THE INDIAN RACE, DRAWN FROM NOTES OF TRAVEL AND RESIDENCE IN THEIR TERRITORIES. CHARACTER OF THE RED MAN OF AMERICA. iNauiRY I. — What kind of a being is the North American Indian ? — Have we judged rightly of him ? — What are his peculiar traits, liis aiTections, and his intellectual qualities ? — Is he much influenced by his religion, his mode of government, and his complicated language. My earliest impressions of the Indian race, were drawn from the fire- side rehearsals of incidents which had happened during the perilous times of the American revolution ; in which my father was a zealous actor, and were all inseparably connected with the fearful ideas of the Indian yell, the tomahawk, the scalping knife, and the fire brand. In these reci- tals, the Indian was depicted as the very impersonation of evil — a sort of wild demon, who delighted in nothing so much as blood and murder, Whether he had mind, was governed by any reasons, or even had any soul, nobody inquired, and nobody cared. It was always represented as a meritorious a. t in old revolutionary reminiscences, to have killed one of them in the border wars, and thus aided in ridding the land of a cruel and unnatural race, in whom all feelings of pity, justice, and mercy, were supposed to be obliterated. These early ideas were sustained by printed narratives of captivity and hair-breadth escapes of men and women from their clutches, which, from time to time, fell into my hands, so that long before I was ten years old, I had a most definite and terrific idea impressed on my imagination of what was sometimes called in my native precincts, " the bow and arrow race." To give a definite conception of the Indian man, there lived in my na- tive valley, a family of Indians of the Iroquois stock, who often went off 04 K lllll r m c :W '/li w p hi 1 PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. 65 to their people in the west, and as often returned again, as if thoy were a troop of genii, or the ghosts of the departed, who came to haunt the nut wood forests, iuul suh-vallies of the sylvan Tawasenthaw, whicii their an- cestors had formerly possessed, and to which they still claimed some right. In this firnily, which w;is of the Oneida trihe, and consisted of the hus- h:ind and wife, with two grown up sons. I hrst saw those characteristic featiires^of the race, — namely, a red skin, with bright black eyes, and hiai'k straight hair. They were mild and docile in their deportment, and wevc on fiiendly terms with tlie whole settlement, whom they furnished with neatly made baskets of the linden wood, split very thin, and coloured to impart variety, and with nice ash brooms. These fabrics niado them welcome guests with every good housewife, who had forgotten the horrific stories of the revolution, and who was ever ready to give a chair and a plate, and a lodging place by the kitchen fire, to poor old Isaac and Anna, for so they had been named. What their original names were, nobod\'^ knew ; they had lived so long in the valley that they spoke the Dutch language, and never made use of their own, except when talking together; and I recollect, we thought it a matter of wonder, when they discoursed in Indian, whether such a guttural jargon, could possibly be the medium of conveying any very definite ideas. It seemed to be one undistinguished tissue of hard sounds, blending all parts of speech together. Mad the boys of my own age, and I may say, the grown people, stopped to reflect, and been led to consider this family and their race in America, independently of their gross acts, under the strong excitements of war and revenge, goaded by wrongs, and led on by the class of revo- lutionary tories, more implacable than even themselves, we must have seen, in the peaceable lives, quiet manners, and benevolent dispositions of these four people, a contradiction to, at least, some part of the sweeping conclusions above noticed. But no such thoughts occurred. The word " Indian," was synonymous then, as perhaps now, with half the opprobri- ous epithets in the dictionary. I recollect to have myself made a few lines, m early life, on the subject, which ran thus : — Indians they were, ere Colon crossed the sea, And ages lience, tliey shall but Indians be. Fortunately I was still young when my sphere of observation was en- larged, by seeing masses of them, in their native forests ; and I, after a few years, assumed a position as government agent to one of the leading tribes, at an age when opinions are not too firmly rooted to permit change. My opinions were still, very much however, what they had been in boyhood. I loo!:ed upon them as very cannibals and blood-thirsty fellows, who were only waiting a good opportunity to knock one in the head. But I regarded them as a curious subject of observation. The remembrance o* poor old Isaac, had shown me that there was some feeling and humanity in their 66 PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. breasts. I hail seen many of them in my travels in the west, and I felt inclined to inquire into the traits of a people, among whom my duties had placed me. I had, from early youth, felt pleased with the study of natural history, and I thought the Indian, at least in his languages, might be studied with something of tlie same mode of exactitude. I had a strong propensity, at this time of life, for analysis, and I believed that somithing like an analytical process might be ap|>lied to eiupiiries, at least in the department of philology. Whenever a litct occurred, in the progress of my official duties, which I deemed characteristic, I made note of it, and in this way preserved a sort of skeleton of dates and events, which, it was believed, would be a source of useful future reference. It is, in truth, under advantages of the kind, that these remarks are commenced. The author has thrown out these remarks, as a starting point. He has made observations which do not, in all respects, coincide with the com- monly received opinions, and drawn some conclusions which are directly adverse to them. He has been placed in scenes and circumstances of varied interest, and met with many cliaractiMS, in the course of four and twenty years' residence and travel in the wilds of America, who would have struck any observer as oriirinal and interesting:. Willi numbers of them, he has formed an intimate acquaintance, and with not a kw, con- tracted lasting friendsliips. Cormected with them by a long residence, by the e.xcrcise of official duties, and by still more delicate and sacred ties, he has btM^n regarded by them as one identified with their history, and received many marks of their confidence. The Indians, viewed as a distinct branch of tlie human race, have some peculiar traits and institutions, from which their history and character may be advantageously studied. They hold some opinions, which are not easily discovered by a stranger, or a foreigner, but which yet e.xert a pow- erful influence on their conduct and life. There is a sulith'ty in some of their modes of thought and belief, on life and the e.\istence of spiritual and creative power, which would seem to have been eliminated fiom some intellectual crucil)le, without the limits of their present sphere. Yet, there is much relative to all the common concerns of life, which is peculiar to it. The author has witnessed many practices and observanci's, such as travellers have often noticed, but like others, attributed them to accidr'iit, or to some cause widely different from the true one. By degrees, he has been admitted into their opinions, and if we may so call it, the {>hilosophy of theii minds; and the life of an Indian no longer appears to him a mystery. He sees hiin acting, as other men would act, if placed exactly in his condition, prepared with the education the forest has given lum, and tiurrounded with the same wants, temptations and dangers. The gentler affections are in much more extensive and powerful exer- cise among the Indian race, than is generally believed, although necessa- rily developed with less refinement than in civilized society. Their pater- in PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. 67 some may not povv- of and ome here ;ir to li as I'tit, has ophy ini a actly , and cxer- cnssa- pater- .1 nal and fraternal afTiH-tions, havo long been known to be very strong, as well as their veneration for tiie dead. It has been his i)rovince in these departments, to odd some strilcing examples of lluir intensity of feeling and aflection, and truliifiilness to nature. The most powerful source of iiitliieiiee, with tlie Red man, is his religion. Here is tiie true groutuiworli of his hopes and his fears, and. it is believed, the fruitful source of his opinions and actions. It supplies the system of thought by which he lives and dies, and it consiitutis, indeed, tlie basis of Indian character. IJy it he preserves liis identity, as a barbarian, and when this is taken away, and the true system substituted, he is still a Red Man, but no longer, in tiie popular sense, an Luliu/i — a barbarian, a pagan. The Indian religion is a peculiar compound of rites, and doctrines, and observances, which are early taught the children by precept and example. In this respect, every b.ark-buill village is a temple, and every forest a school. It would surprise any person to become acquainted with the variety and extent to which an Indian is influenced by his religious views and superstitions. He takes no important step without reference to it. It is his guiding motive in peace and in war. He follows the chace under its influence, and his very amusements take their tincture from it. To the author, the facts have been developing themselves for many years, and while he is able to account for the peculiar differences between the con- duct of Indians and that of white men, in given cases, he can easily per- ceive, why the latter have so often been unable to calculate the actions of the former, and even to account for them, when they have taken place. It may be here remarked, that the civilized man, is no less a mysterious and unaccountable being to an Indian, because his springs of action are alike unintelligible to him. If the following pages shall afford the public any means of judging of (lie Red Race, with greater accuracy, he hopes they may lead to our treating them with greater kindness and a more enlarged spirit of justice. Tiie change which has been wrought in his own mind, by the facts he has witnessed, has been accompanied by a still more important one, as to their intellectual capacities and moral susceptibilities, and their consequent claims on the philanthrojjy of the age. As a class of men, it is thought their native speakers, without letters or education, possess a higher scope of thought and illustration, than the (.-orrcsponn'/iff class m civilized lil'e. 1'his may be accounted for, perhaps, from obvious external causes. with« out impugning the actual native capacity of the lower, although educated classes of civilized life. Still, it is a very striking fact, and one which has very often forced itself on the attention of the author. The old idea that the Indian mind is not susceptible of a high, or an advantageous develope- ment, rests upon questionable data. The two principal causes, which have prolonged their continuance in a state of barbarism, on this coatixieiU 68 PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. for 80 long a period, aro a false religion, and false views of government. The first has kept back social prosperity and impeded the rise of virtue. With respect to guvernnicnt, during all the time we have had them for neigh- bours, they may be said to have had no government at all. Personal inde- pendence, has kept tlie petty chiefs from forming confederacies for the com- mon good. Individuals have surrendered no part of their original private rights, to secure the observance of the rest. There has been no public social organization, expressed or implied. The consequence has been that the law of private redress and revenge prevailed. In the only two cases where this system was departed from, in North America, namely that of the Azteek empire, and of the Iroquois confederacy, there was no lack of vigour to improve. The results were a constantly increasing power, and extending degree of knowledge up to the respective eras of their conquest. It was not want of mental capacity, so much as the non-existence of moral power, and of the doctrines of truth and virtue, that kept them back ; and left our own wandering tribes, particularly, with the bow and the spear in their hands. He believes, that their errors, in these particulars, may be pointed out, without drawing conclusions adverse to their political or social prosperity, under better auspicies, and without attributing such failures to mental imbecility. The mode of recording thought, among these tribes, by means of pic- torial signs, and mnemonic symbols, has attracted particular attention, and gives the author hopes, that he has been enabled to collect, and bring for- ward, a body of facts, in this department, which will recommend them- selves by their interest and novelty. Confidence, inspired by long resi- dence in their territories, revealed to him another trait of character, in the existence among them of a traditionary imaginative lore, which is repeated from father to son, and has no small influence upon their social condition. It is m these two departments, that, he believes, he has opened new and important means of judging of the Indian character, and discovered the sources of views and opinions, on many subjects, which had escaped pre- vious inquirers. There is one more point, to which he will here invite a momentary at- tention, and which, although not usually enumerated as among the prac- tical causes that influenced Indian society and character, is yet believed to exercise a strong, though silent sway, both upon the question of the mental character, and its true development. The author alludes to the topic of their languages. Some of the most venerated writers present a theory of the origin of national government languages and institutions, difficult or impossible to be conformed with the nature of man in society, and un- supported by such evidence as their doctrines require. Such, he regards, rile theory of the " social compact," except it be viewed in the most un- defined and general sense possible. Such, also, is the theory of the origin and improvement o'' languages The system of government gene- PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. 69 and the pre- ilt or d un- raids, it un- the geno- n Tallj' proviiilinnr amono^ thn fudian trilx.'S. is indeed so simple and natural, under ihoir cii'cmnstani.'es, tliat it is lluiiiglit no person would lonj^' seek for the traces of any great leyislalor, giving them laws in any past period. When, however, we consider the curious structure of their langutiges, we find an ingenuity and complexity, far sur])assing any theory to bo disi,'overeil in that of the modern languages of Europe, with, perhaps, some exceptions in the Basque an I Majyer, and even beyond any thing exist- ing in the Greek. As the latter has long been held up as a model, and the excellencies of its plan attributed to some unknown, but great and sa- gacious, learned and refined mind, we might feel justified in assigning the richness of forms, the exceeding flexibility, and the characteristic beau- ties and exccllencu'S of the Indian tongues, to a mind of far superior wis- dom, ingenuity, and experience. Yet how perfectly gratuitous would this be! All history bears testimony against the human invention and de- signed alteration of language ; and none but a mere theorist can ever em- brace the idea that it is, or ever was, in the power of any man, to fiibricato and introduce a new language, or to effect a fundamental change in the groundwork of an existing one. This, at least, is the decided opinion of the author ; and he firmly believes, that whoever will contemplate the subject, amidst such scenes as he has been accustomed to, will inevita- bly come to the same conclusion. He has seen changes in dialects commenced and progressive, and indications of others going on, but these owed their origin and impulse to accidental circumstances, and were not the result of any plan or design. They wore the result of necessity, convenience, or caprice. These three causes, that is to say, necessity convenience arid caprice, if properly e.Kamined and appreciated in their influence, and traced with care to their offtjcts, will develop the origin of many things, whose existence has been sought at loo great a distance, or amidst too much refinement. Books, and the readers of books, have done much to bewilder and per- plex the study of the Indian character. Fewer theories and more obser- vation, loss fincy and more fact, might have brought us to much more correct opinions than those which are now current. The Indian is, after all, believed to be a man, niuch more fully under the influence of common sense notions, and obvious every-day motives of thought and action, hope and fear, than he parses for. If he does not come to the same conclusions, on passing (piestions, as we do, it is precisely be- cause he sees the premises, under widely diff'erent circumstances. The admitted errors of barbarism and the admitted truths of civilization, are two very diflirent codes. He is in want of almost every source of true know- ledge and opinion, which we possess. He has very imperfect notions on many of those branches of Icnowledge in what we suppose him best informed. He is totally in the dark as to others. His vague and vast and dreamy notions of the Great Author of Existence, and the node 70 PEIlS'0.\,\r, IMIDI.NI'S AM) l.-Ml'HKy.SIONS. )f liis tiKiiiifcfiliitiDns to tl ImiiKiii nici', mill the wi.Io niid i'oiii))liciiU'( sysifinol sn|)('i>iiii 111 iiiiil tniiu-ii'ciiilriit.il iildl.iliy " Ih( nil's I oil red upon of tl this) lllSlfi P llllll, III III!'' ir lodt^e, and iiow is it ('(instructed? Tiii;i;i: is ,i vory stiikinn- ao-n-c^mcnt. in the cnnilition, rflativp duties anil otili'jfatidiis, uf tlii> lii'liaii iiimily. aiiK^iiir all tile tiilns of whom I liave iiiiy pcrsoinl know led ■.;■(•. i:i Nniili Aincii'i. Climate and position, tile aliiiiidaiiiM' or want of tic incins (il Mil.sistciKN' :nie circnmslancos have done little to alter the lifeneiiil ciiaracteiistics, or to ahi'idofe or eidarfje the oriirinal liuhts and clainis of eacli inmate of the lodge. The trilies who cultivated maize in the rich snl)-vall!es and plains of the ()liio and Mis.si.»sippi, had fuller means of hoih piiysical and iriental dcveloptnent, than lho.*(> who were, and still are. oliliired to pick a scanty subsistence, anion','- the frigid, and half marine regions in the latitndi^s north of the irifat lalus. 'I'here are some peculiar traits of manners, in the prairietiihes, west of [hv Mississi]i[)i, who pursue the bison on horse back, and rely for their subsistence (rreatly, on its flesh, and the sale of its skin. The well fed Muscogee, Cherokee, or Choctaw, who lived in tho sunny vallies of upper Georgia, Alabama, and 'J'ennessee, the robust Osage, revelling in the abundance of corn and wild meat, south of the 71 rKUHONAL INCiniJNTS AND I.-MI'IIKSSIONS. Missouri, ani;Tii,.s, IMii^K-cpgo, iiml Kniistcno, wlio push their ciinoiH tliroiigh wiitiis clidlii.' I with jKjii.itic wcfds, iind wild rice, prcscMit very ditli'ient pictiin.'S of liomc mid cuinfort, within thoir lodge doors. Uiit tlu'y rcidly j)riM nt the same idea, liie same sentiments, and tlic sanio round of diitii'." and oliligations, of Hither and mother, bitter and lacither, wife and liu.-hiind. Tiie original type of the linman family among tlioni, is well preserved, bettor, indeed, than was to have liein ex- pected in a state of barbari>m, and annmg liranohes of the race who liavo been so long separatrd, and sulijei.'ted to such severe vicissitudes. It Avould be iiseles.s, in this view, to draw a parallel between the relitive con- dition of the mend)ers of a family, within, and without the pale of civiliza- tion. Nothing of tlie kind coidd be done, withont showing up pictures of want in the hunter-life which are wholly unknown in the agricultural slate. It cannot perhaps, in fair justice, be said that the tie of consan- guinity, in the man of the woods, is stronger, than in civilized life. But It is in accordance with all obs-Mvation to say, that it is very strong, that its impulses beat with marked force, and arc more free from the inter- twined ligaments of interest, which often weakens the tie of relationship in refined and aflluent society. The true idea of matrimony, in Indian life, is also well set forth and acknowledged, although it lias come down through ages of plunder and wandering, degiadcd in its condition, slicrn of its ju>t ceremonies, and weakened in its sacred character. I have observed that polygamy, among the northern tribes, is ehiefly to be found, among bands who are favour- ably located, and have the best means of subsistence. But even here it is not reputable ; it may often increase a man's influence in the tribe or nation, but there are always persons in the wildest forests, who do not think the practice right or rejiutable. In the worst state of Indian society, tlu re are jjways some glimmerings of truth. If the conscience of the Red man may be compared to a lamp, it may bo said to have rather sunk low into its socket, than actually to have expired. 7'he relation between Inisband and wife, in the forest, are formed under circumstances, which are geno rally uniform. Various incidents, or motives determine a union. Some- times it is brought about by the intervention of friends ; sometimes from a sudden imjiulse of admiration ; sometimes with, and sometimes against the wishes of the graver and more ji'iidont relatives of the parties. Where the husband is accejitable, and has not before been married, which covers the majority of cases, he comes to live for a while after mar- riage, in the lodge of his mother-in-law ; and this relation generally lasts until the increase of children, or other circumstances determine his tetiiiiir up a lodge for iiiinself. Presents arc still a ready way for a young hun- ter to render himself acceptable in a lodge. There are some instances, where considerable ceremony, and the invitation of fi lends, have attended the first reception of the bridegroom, at the lodge ; but these arc in most ' , PERSONAL INCIDENTS AMD IMrUKSSIONS. 78 cnsos, what wu slmiilil dcnoniinatc matches of stntr, or expediency, in wiiicli the hiavery, ui uiIilt jiulilic suivicis of a ohicl' or Itailir, lias in- cliiiL'd his vilhige to thiiiii, that his luprits dfservo thi: rtnvaid of u wife, Litnu'iaily, the act'cj)taiico of tho vi:sil(jr by the party most iiitereslf(I, and lier iiiolhcr and fither, and tlii'ii' expressed, or tacit consent, is tiie only preliniinaiy, and this i^^ doiio in a private way. 'I'hi.' only ceremonial observance, of uhich I have ever lieard, is llie assigning of wiiat is called un ahliinos, or permam-nt lodye seat, to tiie bridegioom. When this had been cbnie, by tho mother or mistress of liie lod;,'e, who go\( rns iheso things, he is received, and innceKnth installeil as u constituent member of the lodge and family. The simple rule is, that he who has u right to sit by the bride, is her linsbaiid. The lodge itself, with all its arrangements, is the piecinct of the rulo and government of the wife. She assigns to each member, bis or licr or- dinary place to sleep and put their olFecls. These placca are permanent, and only changed at her will, as when there is a guest liy day or night. In a space so small as a lodge tliis system preserves order, and being at all linres under her own eye, is enforced by personal supervision. The hus- band has no voice in this matter, and I have never heard of an instance in wiiich he would so far deviate from his position, as to interfere in these minor particulars. The lodge is her precinct, the forest his. Tiicre is no law, nor force, to prevent an Indian from decreeing his own divorce, that is to say, leaving one wife and taking another whenever he sees causa. Yet it oftea occurs that there is some plausible pretext for such a seep, such as if true, would form some justification of the measure. Tho best protection to married females arises from the ties of children, wliich by bringing into play the strong natural afll'ctions of tiie heart, and ajipeals at once to that principle in man's original organization, which is the strongest. Tho average number of children borne by the women, and which reach the adult period is small, and will scarcely exceed two. On the pay rolls it did not exceed this. Much of this extraordinary resuh is owing to their erratic mode of life, and their cramped means of subsis- tence. Another cause is to be found in the accidents and exposure to which young children are liable, but still more to their shocking ignorance of medicine. I oncirknew a child at three years of age to be killed by an attempt to restore a deranged state of the bowels, by a strong overdose of an astringent tincture of hemlock bark administered by her father. This man, who was called Attack, had strong natural afTections, but he was very ignorant even in the eyes of the Indian race, being one of that people living N. E. of lalce Superior, who are called variously Oens de Terres, Mountaine(,'rs, and Muskeegoes. Wherever the laws of reproduc- tion are relieved from these depressing cu'cumstances, the number of chil- dren is seen to be increased. The chief laba-Waddick, who lived on a small bay at the foot 0/ lake 74 PKUSONAL INCIDKNTS AND IMPRESSIONS. i Superior, aiul Iirxd .ibiimlaucc d means of subsistence, lind fourteen chil- dren by one wife. Lie was an excellent hunter, and of liabits for the most purl of liis life, strictly t''inperatu; he had married young, and had always had iIk; means of providing his fimily with adequate clothing and food. Not one of tiiese children died in infancy. He lived himself to he old, and died rather fioni a complaint induced by constitutional structure, than from a natnnil decay of vital powiM". 'J'lie diitits and labouis of Indian life, are believed to be equally, and Hot, as has been gent rally thought, unequally divided between the male and female. This division is also the most natural possible, and such as mu.«t ever result from the condition of man, as a mere hunter. It is the duty of the male to provide food, and of the female to prepare it. This arrangement c.-.r:i"« with it to the share of the male, all that r<>lates to ex- ternal concerns, and all that pertains to the internal to the care of the female as completely as i,-- done in civilii;ed life. To the man belongs not only the bu?' less of hunting, for this is an employment and not a pas/imc, but the care of the tenitory, and keeping ofl" intruders and enemies, and the pre- paration of canoes for travel, and of arms and implements of war. The duties of cooking and dressing meats and fowl, and whateve'" else the chase affords, carries on the other hand, to the share of the hunter's wife, ihu eiiiire care and controul of the loilge, with its structure and removal, and the keeping it in order, with all its utensils raid apparatus. A good and frui^al hunter's wife, makes all this a point of ambitious interest, and talvcs a ])ride in keeping it neat and proper for the receptiori of her hus- band's guests. She sweeps the earth clean around the fire, with a broom of braiiches of the cedar constructed for this pur|io?e. This lodge it is to be remembered, is made not of beams atid posts, and heavy carpentry, but out of thin poles, such as a child can lift, set in the ground in a circle, bent over and tied at the top, and sheathed with long sheets of the white birch bark. A rim of cedar wood at the bottom, assimilates these birch bark sliei ts to the roller of a map, to which in stormy weather a stone is at- tached to hold it firm. 'J'liis stick has also the precise use of a map- roller, for when the lodge is to be removed, the bark is rolled on it, and in this shape carried to the canoe, to be set up elsewhere. The circle of sticl.s or fiame, is always left .'-tanding, as it would be useless to en- cumber the canoe with what can easily be had at any position in a forest country. Such at least is the hunting lodge, and indeed, the lodge generally used by t!ie tribes north of lattitnde 42"^. It is, in its figure, a half globe, and by its lightness and wicker-like structure, may be said to resemble an inverted bird's nest. The whole amount of the transportable materials of it, is often comprehended in some half a dozt^n good rolls of bark, and as many of ru.'^h mats which the merest girl can easily lift. The mats which are the substitute for floor cloth?, and also the under stratum of the sleep- PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND I.MPIl KSiilDNS. lO in" coiioli, !iro iniulc out of ilu." cominon Ln-iistrit: or hullnisli, or the flag, cut ;it lliu proju'r season, ;ui I wova iu a \\Mr|) of liin' hemp not tlircail, such as is fiiniishcil hy tr ulcis m tiio [iii'scnt stale of tlio In diaii trade. ous colours. lortion u f tl lis So it V fcrit;il)le wool. IS (Ivi'fl. and woven in van- I. tl iOdiTi'S tlius const. IK' u-A arii tu 1)1' slill alaiiidanlly sei itK Ml, by llie suiimier visitor, ill the wpprr Liivcs, at all tin- principal points, tu wliicli the liiiiiiiis resort, diiriii!,'' the height of siiinnii.'r. Such are the posts of Michiliiii iclviiiac, Sank Ste. Marie, aii«l Cireeii Hay. At Micliiii- inackiiiac, where it is now diliienlt to get fresh lodge poles, without going some distance, or trespassing on private rights, the natives wh,, resort thi- ther, of lale Y<-nirs, have aiKipted an ingenious change, by which two ob- jects are acconiplisiifd at the same lime, and the labour of the females di.s- pensed with in getting new poles. It is l;nowii, that the bark canoe, be- ill:,'- itsi'lf but an enlarged speciis of wicker work, has not sulficien-t streni;th to be freiirhted, without previously having a number of poles laid longitudinallN', in the bottom, as a kind of veitebral support. These poles on landing upon the gra\elly shores of that ioland, are set up, or slacked to use a military Jihrase, that is tying the tops together and then drawing out the other ends so as to describe a circle, and thus making a perfect cone. The bark tapestry is hung around these poles very much as it would be around the globular close lodges ; and by this arrangement, an Indian lodge is raised, and ready for occupation, in as ni;>ny minutes, after landing, as the most e.vpert soldiers could pitch a tent in. Before we can allirm that the labour of preparing these barks and mats and setting ii|i, and taking down, the loilge, is disproportionately grant, or heavy on the females, it will be necessary to inquire into other particu- lars, both on the side of the male and female. Much of the time of an In- dian female, is passed in idleness. This is true not only of a part of every day, but is emphatically so, of certain seasons oil he year. She has not like the farmer's wile, her cows to milk, her butter and cheese to make, and her ila.\ to spin She has not to wash and comb and prepare her children every morning, to go to school. She has no extensive or fine wardrobe to lake care of She has no books to read. She sets little value on time, which is characteristic of all the race. What she does, is either very plain sewing, or some very pains taking ornamental thing. When the sheathing and flooring of the lodges are once made, they arc jiermanent pieces of property, and do not re(piire frequent renewal. When a skin has been dressed, and a garment made of it, it is w"orn, till it is worn out. Frequent ablution and change of dress, are eminently the traits of high civilization, and not of the hunter's lodge. The articles which enter into the mysteries of the laundry, add but little to llic cares oi" a forest housekeeper. W^itli every industrial efTort, and such is, somtimes the case, there is much unoccupied time, while her hus- band is compelled by their necessities, to traverse large tracts, and endure ,»nipHJll .••" S»«i w 76 PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. great fatigues, in all weathers iu quest of food. He must defend his hunt- ing grounds, in peace and war, and has his life daily in liis hands- Long absences arc often necessary, on these accounts. It is at such times, during the open season, that the Indian female exerts her industry. In the fall season, she takes her children in a canoe, or if she have none, in- vites a female companion to go with her, along the streams, to cut tlie rush, to he manufactured into mats, at her leisure, in the winter. It is also a part of her duty, at all seasons, to provide fuel for the lodge fire, which she is careful to do, that she may suitably receive her husband, on his return from the chase, and have the means of drying his wet mocca- sins, and a cheerful spot, where he may light his pipe, and regain liis mental equilibrium, while she prepares his meals. The very idea of a female's choj)ping wood, is to some liorrifTic. But it is (juite true that the Indian female does chop wood, or at le:ist, exert aiuundiie labour, in procuring this necessary article of tiie household. In speaking of the female, we, at once, rush to the poetic idea of the refinement of lady like gentleness, and delicacy. Not only does the nature of savage life and the hardiness of muscle created by centuries of forest vicissitude, give the hunter's wife, but a slender clainr on this particular shade of character, but the kind of labour implied, is very dilTercnt from the notion civilized men have of "wood chopping." The emigrant swings a heavy axe of six pounds weight, incessantly, day i/i, and day oul, against inmunse trees, in the heaviest forest, until he has ojiened the land to tiie rays of the sun, and prepared an amount of cyclupean labours for the power of fire, and the ox. The hunter clears no forests, the limits of wiiich on the contrary, he carefully cherishes for his deer to range in. lie seats lumself duwn, with his lodge, in the borders of natural glades, or meadows, to plant his few liills of maize. He had no metallic axe, capable of cutting down a tree, before 1492, and he has never learned to wield a heavy axe up to 1844. His wife, always made her lodge fires by gathering sticks, and she does so still. She takes a hatchet of one or two pounds weight, and after collecting dry limbs in the forest, she breaks them into lengths of about 18 inches, and ties them in bundles, or faggots, and carries them, at her leisure, to her lodge. Small as these sticks are, in their length ami diame- ter, but few are required to boil her pot. The lodge, being of small cir cumference, but little heat is required to warm the air, and by susjxnding the pot by a string from above, over a small blaze, the olject is attained, without that extraordinary expenditure of wood, which, to the pcrfi ct amazement of the Indian, characterizes the emigrant's roaring fire of logs. The few fields which the Indians hiive cleared and prepared for corn fields, in northern liitiludes, are generality to be traccsd to some adventitious opening, and have been enlarged very slouly. Hince, 1 have observed, that when they have come to be appraised, to fix their value as improvements upon the land, under treaty provisions, that the amount thereof may be paid the PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. 77 owner. s hunt- hands- 1 times, ,y. In one, in- cut the . It is ge fire, land, on mocca- s mental female's e Indian rocuring c, we, at less, and liness of jr's wife, kind of liave of X pounds >s, in the sun, and }, and the itravy, he own, with It his few \xn a tree, to 1844. she does and after ; of ahotit L m, at her aid diamc- sniall cir nspcnding iL- allaineil, the perfict ire of lojis. coin fields, iis opening, , tlmt when nents upon 1)0 paid the they h;i iforiniy set a high mgs, and soineUme^ reguirao nato upon these ancient clear- nj would tliink, in the inverse proportion of these limits. As if, iiide 'd, there won; some merit, in having but iialf an acre ofclcirel ground, where, it might bn supposed, the owner would have cultivated ten acres. And this hall' acre, is to be regarded as the industrial sum of the agricuitural labours of all ages and sexe.s, during perhaps, ten generations. Could the whole of this physical effort, there- fore, be traced to female hands, which is doubtful, for the old men and boys, will often do something, it would not bo a very severe imposition. There is at least, a good deal, it is believed, in this view of the domestic condition of the women to mitigite the severity of judgment, with which the proud and labourdiatiug hunter, h:is sometimes been visited. He lias, in our view, tlie most important pirt of the relative duties of Indian life, to sustain. In the lodge he is a miM, considerate man, of the non-interfering and non-scolding species. He may indeed, be looked upon, rather as the guest of his wife, than what he, is often represented to be, her tyrant, and he is often only known as the lo"d of the Iolg.5, by the attention and res- pect which fhe sh )ws to him. He is a man of few words. If her temper is ruffled, he smiles. If h* is displeased, he walks away. It is a pro- vince in which his actions acknowledge her right to rule ; and it is one, in which his pride and manliness have exalted him above the folly of al- tercation. THE ISIAMTO THEE. ii" There it^ a [iiominciit hill in the vii'inity of S.mlt Ste. Marie, at iho out- let of like Sii|)i ritii'. called hy tlie French J.d liutti' des Terres. An In- dian footpath foiiiKily connected this hi!l with tho old French setllenunt at those fall^•, IVoni which it i:< dii-tanl Jil'oul a mile. In the inteiinediato space, near tije path, there formerly stood a tree, a large mountain asii, Ironi wliicii. Indian tralition says, there issued a sound, resembling that produc(;d by liieir own war-drums, iluring one of the most calm and cloudless days, This occurred long before the French appeared in the country. It was consequently regarded as the local residence of a sjiirit, Mild ileemed sacred. From that tiiiie they began to deposit at its foot, an oliering of small green twigs and boughs, whenever tiiey j)assed the path, so that, in pro- cess of time, a high pile of these otTerings of the forest was accumulated. It seeme.l as if, by tlii> proceiluie, the other trees iiad each made an oflin'- ing to this tiee. At length the tree blew duwn, during a violeait storm, and has since entiredv^ dtciyed. lait the sput was lecollected and the ofiijr- ings kept Hj), and they would haw been continued to the present hour, Juid not an accidental ciicumstance put a stop to it. In the month of.Tuly 18",;;2, tiie govcnnnent sent a military furce to take post, at that ancient point of Frencii si'itlcment, at the foot of the falls, and one of the (irst acts ef the commanding oflicer was to order out a fatigue party to cut a wa'jon roail tiom ihc .-^rli-ctcd site of the post to the hill. This road was directed to Ijl' cut sixty left wide, and it jiassed (j\ta the site of the tree. 'J'he ))ile (/f orterings was thus removed, without the men's knowing "hat it i-vcr had had a superstitious origin ; and thus riir; practice itself came to an end. I had landed with tiie troops, and been at the pla ^ but nine days, in the exercise of my appropriate iluties as an Agent on the part of the goveinment to the tiibe. when ;his trait of character was men- tioned to me. and I wa.s thus mad.' p-TSfinally acquainted with the localily, the cutting of the roa I. and the final extinction of the rite. Our Indians are lather prone to regard the conrung of the whit^" man, as fulfilling certain (discure prophecies of their own priests; and that 'hey are, at l)est, li.nbingers of evil to tlnin ; and with tlnir usual belief in fatabty, they tacitly drop such rites as the foregoing. They can excuse themselves to their consciences in such cases, in reliiupjishing the wor- ship of a local manito, by saying: it is the tread of the white man that has desecrated the ground. 78 TALES OF A WIGAYAM. T1II<. AMIITE SrOXE CAXOE. ill ; to tillie ill?, and fatigue fins site of tncn's iraclice t- pla " on the as ir.tMi- ocalilV) man, hat ■l.vy icliff ill fXi'llSO \v; wor- nati that TriKRK was once a verv bpautifiil yniiiiLf girl, who died suddenly on the day shtj was to have liecn married to a luiiidsonic young man. lie was also brave, but bia heart was not proof against this loss. From the hour she was buried, there was no more joy or pi.vice for him. lie wont often to visit the spot where the women had buried her, and sat nnising there, when, it was thought, by some of his friends, he would have done better to try to amuse bimsilf in the chase, or by diverting his thoughts in the war-patli. Bui war and iiunting had both loi^t their eharnis fur him. His heart was already dead within liiin. He puslied aside buth his war-club and his bow and arrows. He had lieard the old people say. that there was a path, that led to the land of souls, and he determined to follow it. He accordingly set out, one morning, after having completiH] his prepai'ations for the journey. At fiist lie hardly knew which way to go. He was only guided by the tradition that he inn>t go south. For a ^\ hil(\ he could see no change in the face of the country. Forest.*, and iiills. r'.nd vallies, and streams had the same looks, which they wore in his n;'iivr place. There was snow on tb." ground, when he set out. and it was sometimes seen to be piled and malted on t!u> tiiicK- trees and Ijushes. At length, it began to dimin- ish, and finally disappeared. Tlie forest assumed a more cheerful ap- pearance, ilio leaves put forth their buds, and bi'fore he was awaic of the completeness of the ch.mge. he found himself surrotnided by spring. He had left behind bini the land of snow and ice. Tlie air became mild, the dark clouds of winter had rolled away from the sky; a pure field of blue was above him, and as ho went he saw flowers liesidc his path, and heard the songs of birds. By these signs he knew that he was p)ing the right way, for they airreed with t!ie traditions of his tribe. At length he .'pi(.'(l a pith. It led him throuiih a grove, then up a long and elevated ridge, on the very top of which he came to a lodge. At the door stood an old man, with white hair, whose eyes, though deeply sunk, had a fiery brilii.uicy. He bad a huiir robe of skins thrown loosely around his shoulders, and a stall" in his hands. 79 I ^ * 80 THE WHITE STONE CANOE. The yonng Chippowaynn began to tell his stovy ; Imt the venerable chief arrested him, before he had proceeded to speak ten words. I iiave expected you, he replied, and had just risen to bid you welcome to my abode. She, whom you seek, passed here but a few days since, and being fatigued with her journey, rested herself here. Enter my lodge and be seated, and I will then satisfy your enquiries, and give you directions for your journey from this point. Having done this, they both issued forth to the lodge door. "You see yonder gulf, said he, and the wide stretching blue plains be yond. It is the land of souls. You stand upon its borders, and niy lodge is the gate of entrance. But you cannot take your body aloug. Leave it here with your bow and arrows, your bimdle and your dog. You will find them safe on your return." So saying, he re-f-t-'orod the lodge, and the freed traveller bounded forward, as if his feet had suddenly been endow- ed with the power of wings. But all things retained their natural i'oiours and shapes. The woods and leaves, and streams and lakcs^, were only more bright and comely than he had ever witnessed. Annuals bounded across his path, with a freedom ^nd a contidcnce nliich seemed to tell him, there was no blood shed here. Birds of beaii'.iful plumage inhabit- ed the groves, and sported in tlie waters. 'J'licre was but one thing, in which he saw a very unusual effect. He noticed that his passage was not stopped by trees or other objects. H.'^ appeared to walk directly through them. They were, in fact, but the souls or shadows of material trees. He became sensible that he was in a land of shadows. When he had travelled half a day's journej, through a country which was con- tinually becoming more attractive, he came to the banks of a broad lake, in the centre of which was a large and beautiful island. He found a canoe of shining white stone, tied to the shore. He was now sure that he had rome the right path, for the aged man had told him of this. There were also shinmg paddles. He immediately entered the canoe, and took the paddles in his hands, when to his joy and surprise, on turning round, he beheld the object of his search in another canoe, exactly its counter- part in every thing. She had exactly imitated his motions, and they were side by side. They it on:., pushed oat from shore and began to cross the lake. Its wav .s seemed to be rising and at a distance looked ready to swallow them up; hut just as they cni:.red the whitened edge of them they seemed to melr away, as if they were but the images of waves. But no sooner was one wreath of foam passed, than another, more threaten- 'rg still, rose up. Thws they were in perpetual fear; and what added to it, was the clearness of the water, through which they could see heaps of bemgs who had perished before, and whose bones laid strewed on the bottom of the lake. The Master of Life hud, however, decreed to let them pass, for the actions of neither of them had been bad. But they saw many others struggling and sinking in the waves. Old men and young men, males and females of all ages and ranks, were there; som<} passed, and i h •Hi THE WHITE STONE CANOE. 81 some sank. It was o?ily the little children whose canoes seemed to meet no waves. At length, every cliificulty was gone, as in a moment, and they both leapt out on the hajjpy island. They felt that the very air was food. It £tr('n'.rth('iK'd and nourished thetn. They wandered to- (jetlier over the blissful fields, where every thine,'' was formed to please the eye and the eir. There were im tem|)ests — there was no ice, no ciiilly winds — no one shivered for the want of warm eloth.es: no one siitfered for hnnirt-r — no one mourned for the dead. They saw no graves. 'J'hey heard of no wars. There was no hunting of animals; for the air itself was their food, (iladly would the young warrior have remained there forever, but he was obliged to go back for his body. He did not see the Master of Life, but he heard his voice in a soft breeze: "C)o back, said this voice, to the land from whence you came. Your time has not yet come. The duties for which I made you, and which you are to per- form, arc not yet finished. Return to your people, and accomplish the duties of a good man. You w ill be the ruler of your tribe for many days. 'I'he rules you must observe, will lie told you by my messenger, who keeps the gate. When he surrenders back your body, he will tell you whit to do. Listen to him, and you shall afterwards rejoin the spirit, which you must now leave behind. She is accented and will be ever here, as young and as happy as she was when I first called her from the land of snows." When this voice ceased, the narrator awoke. It was the fmcy work of a dream, and he was still in the bitter land of snows, and hunger and tears. THE LYNX AND THE HARE. H A FABLE FROM THK OJIIUVA-.M.GOXQtiIN. A i.vNX almost famished, met a hare one day in the woods, in the winter Kf ,ison, but the hare was separated from its enemy by a rock, upon which It stood. The lyn.v began to Sj)eak to it in a very kind manner. " Wa- bose ! Waliosc '" * said he, " come here my little white one, I wish to talk to you.", '• O no," said the hare, " I am afraid of you, and my mother told me never to go and talk with strangers." '' You are very pretty," replied the lynx, " and a very obedient child to ynur parents ; but you must know tl\at I am a relative of yours ; I wish to semi some word to your lodge ; come down and see me." Thr har(^ was pleastvl to be called pretty, and when she heard that it was a relative, she jumped down from the place where slie stood, and immediately the lynx pounced upon her and tore her to pieces. * This word appcurs to be a dorivaliou from the radi.x WAwn, white. The tenni- litition ill is the objective sign. The term is made diminutive in 8. 1^. THE WORSHIP OF THE SUN. AN OnOWA TRADITION. A LONG time ago, there lived an aged Odjibwa and his wife, on the shores of Lake Huron. They had an only son, a very beautiful boy whose name was 0-na-wut-a-qut-o, or he that catches the clouds. The family were of the totem of the beaver. The parents were very proud of him, and thought to make him a celebrated man, but when he reached the proper age, he would not submit to the We-koon-dc-win, or fast. When this time arrived, they gave him charcoal, instead of liis breakfast, but he would not blacken his face. If they denied him food, he would seek for birds' eggs, along the shore, or pick up the heads of fish that had been cast away, and broil them. One day, they took away violently the food he iiad thus prepared, and cast him some coals in place of it. This act brought him to a decision. He took the coals and blackened his face, and went out of the lodge. He did not return, but slept without; and during the night, he had a dream. He dreamed that he saw a very beautiful female come down from the clouds and stand by his side. "O- no-wut-a-qut-o," said she, "I am come for you — step in my tracks." The young man did so, and presently feh himself ascending above the tops of the trees — he mounted up, step by step, into the air, and through the clouds. His guide, at length, passed through an orifice, and he, following her, found himself standing on a beautiful plain. A path led to a splendid lodge. He followed her into it. It was large, and divided into two parts. On one end he saw bows and arrows, clubs and spears, and various warlike implements tipped w it h silver. On the other end, were things exclusively belonging to females. This was the home of his fair guide, and hi' saw that she had, on the frame, a broad rich boh, of many colours, which she was weaving. She said to him: "My brother is coming and I mu.st hide you." Putting him in one cor- ner, she spread the belt over him. Presently the brother oame in, very richly dressed, and shining as if he had iiad points of silver all over him. He took down from the wall a spleniiiil pipe, together with his sack of a- padvoze-gun, or smoking mixture. When he had finished regaling him- self in this way, and laid his pipe aside, he said to his sister: '•Neniissa,' (\,hich is, my elder sister,) "when will you quit these practices? Do you forget that the Greatest of the Spirits has commanded that you should not 82 I al dl a] t!j Irk \vl ml The tops of )(Th the allowing •as large, ws, clubs On the was the a broad to hinT- n one cor- ic in, very over him. sack of a- nling him- Nemissa,' 1 Do you should not 82 I THE WORSHIP OP THE SUN. 83 take awav the chillren from below? Perhaps you suppose llint you have concealed 0-na-\vut a-qut-o, but do I not know of his coming? If you would not ofTund me, send him back immediately." Hut this address did rot alter her purpose. She would not send him back. Finding that she was purposed in her mind, he then spoke to the young lad, and called him from his hiding place. "Come out of your concealment," said he, "and walk about and amuse yourself You will grow hungry if you remain there." He then presented him a bow and arrows, and a pipe of red stone, richly ornamented. This was taken as the word of consent to his mar- riage; so the two were considered husband and wife from that time 0-no-wnt a-rpU-o found every thing exceedingly fair and beautiful around him, but he found no inhabitants except her brother. There were flowers on the plains. There were bright and sparkling streams. There were gr(!cn vallies and pleasant trees. There were gay birds and beautiful animals, but they were not such as he had been accustomed to see. There was also day and night, as on the earth ; but he observed that every morn- ing the brother regularly left the lodge, and remained absent all day; and every evening the sister departed, though it was commonly but for a part of the night. His curiosity was aroused to solve this mystery. He obtained the brother's consent to accompany him in one of his daily journies. They travelled over a smooth plain, without boundaries, until 0-no-wut-a-qut-o felt the gnawings of appetite, and asked his companion if there were no game. "Patience! my brother," said he, "we shall soon reach the spot where I cat my dinner, and you will then see how I am provided." After walliing on a long time, they came to a place which was spread over with fine mats, where they sat down to refresh themselves. There was, at this place, a hole through the sky ; and 0-no-wut-a-qut-o, looked down, at the bidding of his companion, upon the earth. Fie saw below the great lakes, and the villages of the Indians. In one place, he saw a war party steal- ing on the camp of their enemies. In another, he saw feasting and dancin"-. On a green plain, young men were engaged at ball. Along a stream, women were employed in gathering the a-puk-wa for mats. "Do you see," said the brother, "that group of children playing beside a loilge. Observe that beautiful and active boy," said he, at the same time darting something at him, from his hand. The child immediately fell, and was carried into the lodjrc. They looked again, and saw the people gathering about the lodge. They hoard the she-she-gwan of the meeta, and the song he sung, asking tliat tlie child's life might be spared. To this request, the companion of Ono-wut-a-qut-o made answer — "send me up the sacrifice of a white dop." Immediately a feast was ordered by the parents of the child, the white dog was killed, his carcass was roasted, and all the wise men and medicine men of the village assembled to witness the ceremony "There are many ff 81 Tin: W'OUSMIl' Of THK HUN. Im'Iow, ' (.•oiititiinil till' viiiic iil'lln liioilici, -wlioin ymi I'uMtfii tt in mcJ ical sUill, liut it is liciMii.ti' tiiiir niis iiiii upt'ii, and tlicy listen Id my voii'i', th.it tlii'y ail! altlt: to Miii'ci'rd. W'licn 1 iiuvi- sttinciv om; willi siclv iit'ss, tlii'y (linrt tin- jicdiili- to look to nif: and w lien tlicy ycnd nif llic olit'iinu; I ait(;i- id' tin: rea>t tlion said, "\vr si nil this ti) iht'i', (Ircat Manito," and iminei.i.iti ly the ^oa^t^.■ll animal tame up. Thus their dinner was snpjilied, and after they had eaten, they rulurned to the lodge hy aimther way. Alier tiiis manner tiny lived for some time; hut the place hetamo wearisome at 1 ii^t. (.)-no-wut-a-(iiit o lliuiiylit of his iiiends, antl wished to ifo haelv to them. lie had not forgotten his native village, and iiis father's lod<,fe; and he asked leave of his wife, to return. At length she consented. '-Since you are better ]deased," slie replied, with liio cares and the ills, and the jioverty of the wiuld, than with the peaceful deliij^htsol the sky, and its hoiindless prairies, go! I give you permission, and since I have inought you hiliier, 1 will conduct you back; but re- member, you are .*till my husband, 1 hold a chain in my hand jjy which I can draw yoa hack, whenever 1 will. J\Iy power over you is not, in any imunrr, diminished. I'eware, therefore, how you venture to take a wife umnn^r the jieople below. Should you ever do so, it is then iha' you shall feel the force of my dispicsiire." As she .''aid this, her eyes sparkled — she raised herself slightly on her toes, and stretched herself up, with a majestic air; and at that moment, U- no-wiit-a-(int o awoke from his dream. lie found himsell' on the gioiind, near his father's lodge, at the veiy spot where he liaJ laid hiiiiself down to fast. Instead of the bright beings of a higher world, he found himsell surrounded by his parents and relatives. 1 1 is mother told him he had been absent a yeiir. 1'he change was so great, that he remained for somo time moody and anstracti.!, but by degrees, he recovered his sjiirits. lie began to doubt the realitv of all he had heard and seen above. At lust, he forgot the admonitions of his spouse, and married a beautiful younc woman of his own tribe. Hat witiiin four days, she was a corjise. Even the fearful admonition was lost, and he repe'ated the oflence by a second m;irriage. Soon afterwards, he went out of the lodge, one nio-lit, but never returned. It was believed that his wife had recalled him to the region of the clouds, where the tradition assert5, he still dwells, and walka on the daily rounds, which he once witnessed. The native tribes are a people without maxims : One of the few which have been noticed is this : Do not tell a story in the summer ; if you do, the toads will visit you. ri; it in nicil listen to my u(! wiili sii'l"^" SLlul 111'' ll'<^ i.y lllC' will." Ill dislii'S, lor ;,i,l, ''ut' siiid iiiuil ciiii'" "P- llii-y iLluiiii:il jilnco bc'Ciimo Is, ami witiWi'ti vilkigo, iiuii l"S „. At Icnj-th l.li.'il, Willi ihc ilh lliu iietK'clul you iiuiinisbion, ,u kick; but re- liaiid by wbich you is not, ill ''"Y 110 10 take a wilo t;i\ tlia' yoii sliall slightly on her that nioniL'nt, O- t' on llu! giounJ, id liiii.s' II' ilowu ho i"u\uul hinibult lold hiui he had tinaiiu'd I'oi' sonio •A his spiiiw. Ho 11 above. At l^st, a bfautiful young s a corpse. Even the ofTeiice by a e kxlgf, on(; night, recalled liiin to iho dwells, and walks leoftho few which immer ; if you e latter part of the 16th century, who was called by the Iroquois, Piskaret, but the true pronunciation of whose name, by his oxyn people, was Bisco- nace, or the Little Blaze. Names are often arbitrarily bestowed by the Indians, from some trivial circumstance in domestic life, or hunting, as mere nick names, which take the place of the real names : for it is a prac- tice among this people to conceal their real names, from a subtle, supersti- tious notion, that, if so known, they will be under the power of priestly incantation, or some other evil influence. What the real name of this man was, if it differed from the above, is not known, as this was his only appellation. He was an Adirondak: that is to say, one of the race of people who were called Adirondaks by the Iroquois, but Algonquins by the French. And as the Algonquins and Iroquois, had lately became deadly enemies and were so then, the distinction to which Bisconace rose, was in the conducting of the war which his peo- ple waged against the Iroquois, or Five Nations. It seems, from the accounts of both English and French authors, that the Algonquins, at the period of the first settlement of the St. Lawrence, were by far the most advanced in arts and knowledge, and most distin- guished for skill in war and hunting, of all the nations in North America. This at least is certain, that no chief, far or near, enjoyed as high a repu- tation for daring valor and skill as Bisconace. He is spoken of in this light hy all who name him ; he was so fierce, subtle and indomitable that he became the terror of his enemies, who were startled at the very mention of his name. Bisconace lived on the north banks of the St. Law- rence, below Montreal, and carried on his wars against the Indians inhabit- ing the northern parts of the present state of New York, often proceeding by the course of the River Sorel. The period of the Adirondak supremacy, embraced the close of the I5th century and the beginning of the 16th, and at this time the people be- gan to derive great power and boldness, from the possession of fire arms, with which the French supplied them, before their southern and western neighbours came to participate in this great improvement, this striking era of the Red man, in the art of war. Colden is thought to be a little out, in the great estimate he furnishes of the power, influence, and advances of this great family of the Red Race. The French naturally pufledthem up a good deal ; but we may admit that they were most expert warriors, and hunters, and manufactured arms and canoes, with great skill. They .87 Bo EARLY INDIAN BIOGRAPHY. were the prominent enemies of the Five Nations ; and like all enemies at a distance had a formidable name. Tlie word Adirondak is one of Iro- quois origin; but the French, who always gave their own names to the Tribes, and had a policy in so doing, called them Algonquins — a term whose origin is involved in some obscurity. For a time, they prevailed against their enemies south of the St. Lawrence, but the latter were soon furnished with arms by the Dutch, who entered the Hudson in 1G09, and their allies, the Iracoson, or Iroquois, soon assumed that rank in wur which, if they had before lacked, raised them to so high a point of pre- aminence. It was in that early period of the history of these nations that Bisconace exerted his power. Where a people have neither history nor biography, there is but little hope that tradition will long preserve the memory of events. Some of the acts of this chief are known through the earlier colonial writers. So great was the confidence inspired in the breast of this chief, by the use of lire arms, that he pushed into the Iroquois country like a mad man. and performed some feats against a people armed with bows only, which are astonishing. With only four chiefs to aid him, he left Trois Rivieres, on one occa- sion, in a single canoe, with fifteen loaded muskets, thus giving three pieces, to each man. Each piece was charged with two balls, joined by a small chain ten inches long. Soon after entering the Sorel river, he en- countered fiv: jark canoes of Iroquois, each having ten men. To cloak his ruse he pretended to give himself up for lost, in view of such a dis- parity of numbers ; and he and his companions began to sing their death song. They had no sooner got near their enemies, however, than they began to pour in their chain-shot, riddling the frail canoes of the enemy, who tumbled into the water, and sank under the active blows of their adversaries. Some he saved to grace his triumphant return, and these were tortured at the stake. On another accasion he undertook an enterprize alone. Being well acquainted with the Iroquois country, he set out, about the time the snow began to melt, taking the precaution to put the hinder part of his snow- shoes forward to mislead the enemy, in case his track should be discovered. As a further precaution, he avoided the plain forest paths, keeping along the ridges and high stony grounds, where the snow was melting, that his track might be often lost. When he came near to one of the Villages of the Five Nations, he hid himself till night. He then crept forth, and en- tered a lodge, where he found every soul asleep. Having killed them all, he took their scalps, and went back to his lurking place. Tlie ne.xt day the people of the village searched in vain for the perpetrator. At night he again sallied forth, and repeated the act, on another lodge, with equal secrecy and success. Again the villagers searched, but could find nc traces of his footsteps. They determined, however, to set a watch. Pis- EARLY INDIAN BIOGRAPHY. 89 llujjes of and cn- theni all, next day At iiiglit ■ith equal find nc Ich. Pis- karet, anticipating this, gathered up his scalps, and stoic forth slyly, but found the inhabitants of every lodge on the alert, save one, where the sen- tinel had fallen asleep. This man he despatched and scalped, but alarmed the rest, who rose in the pursuit. He was, however, under no great fears of being overtaken. One of the causes of his great CDnfideiice in himself was found in the fact that he was the swiftest runner known. He eluded them often, sometimes, however, lingering to draw them on, and tire them out. When he had played this tiick, he hiJ liiniself. His pursuers, finding they had let him escape, encamped, thinking tlieinselvi.s in safety, but they had no sooner fallen asleep, than he stole forth from his lurking place, and despatched every one of them. He added their fecalps to his bundle of trophies, and then returned. Recitals of this kind flew from village to village, and gave him the greatest reputation for courage, adroitness and flectncss. The Five Nations were, however, early noted for their skill in stratagem, and owed their early rise to it. They were at this era engaged in their long, fierce and finally triumphant war against the Algonquins and Wy- andots, or to adopt the ancient terms, the Adirondaks and Quatoghies. These latter they defeated in a great battle, fought within two miles of Q,uebec. In this battle the French, who were in reality weak in number, were neutral. Their neutrality, on this occasion, happened in this way. They had urged the reception of priests upon the Five Nations, tiirough whose influence, they hoped to prevail over that people, and to wrest western New York from the power of the Dutch and English. As soon as a number of these missionaries of the sword and cross had insinuated themselves among the Five Nations, the latter seized them, as hostages j and, under a threat of their execution, kept the French quiet in this deci- sive battle. 'J'his scheme had succeeded so well, that it taught the Five Nations the value of negociation ; and they determined, the next year, to try another. Pretending that they were now well satisfied with their tri- umph on ihe St. Lawrence, they sent word that they meant to make a formidable visit to Yonnendio, this being the official name they 1 • ov.-ed on the governor of Canada. Such visits they always made with great pomp and show ; and on this occasion, they came with 1000 or 1200 men. On tlie way to Q,uebcc, near the iiver Nicolet, their scouts met Piskaret, whom they cajoled, and kept in utter ignorance of the large force behind until they had drawn out of him an important piece of information, and then put him to death. They cut ofl^ his head, and carried it to the Iro- quois army. To have liilh.'d liim, was regarded as an assurance of ulti- mate victory. Tliese scouts also carried to the army tiie information, which they had olilained, that the Adirondaks were divided into two bodies, one of which htinte.l on the river Nicohst, and tlie other at a place called Wabmeke, on the noith side of the St. Lawrence. They immedi- 90 EARLY INDIAN BIOGRAPHY. ately divided their forces, fell upon each body at unawares and cut them both to pieces. This is the great triumph to which Charlevoix, in his history of New France, alludes. It was the turning point in the war against the confederated Wyandots, and Algonquins, and, in effect, drove both nations, in the end, effectually out of the St. Lawrence valley. The former fled to Lake Hu- ron, to which they imparted their name. Some of the Adirondaks took shelter near Gluebec, under the care of the Jesuits ; the larger number went up the Utawas, to the region of Lake Nipising ; the Atawairos fled to a large chain of islands in Lake Huron, called the Menaloulins ; other bands scattered in other directions. Each one had some local name; and all, it is probable, were well enough pleased to hide their defeat by the Five Nations, under local and geographical designations. But they had no peace in their refuge. The spirit of . venge burned in the breast of the Iroquois, particularly against their kindred tribe, the Wyandots, whom they pursued into Lake Huron, drovethemfromtheir refuge at Michili- mackinac, and pushed them even to Lake Superior, where for many years, this ancient tribe continued to dwell. The pernicious examples of white men, who have conducted the Indian trade, their immoral habits, injustice, and disregard of truth, and open licentiousness, have created the deepest prejudice in the minds of the Red men against the whole European race. The Indian only thinks when he is forced to think, by circumstances. Fear, hunger and self-preservation, are the three prominent causes of his thoughts. Affection and reverence for the dead, come next. Abstract thought is the characteristic of civilization. If teachers could induce the Indians to think on subjects not before known to them, or but imperfectly known, they would adopt one of the most efficacious means of civilizing them. Christianity is uhraism to an Indian, It is so opposed to his natural desires, that he, at first, hates it, and decries it. Opposite states of feeling, however, affect him, precisely as they do white men. What he at fiist hates, he may as suddenly love and embrace. Christianiity is not propagated by ratiocination, it is the result of feelings and aflTjctions on the will and understanding Hence an Indian can b«. come a christian. ^ It them of New sderated the end, ake Hu« [iks took number tiros fled IS ; other ime; and ut by the they had ast of the ts, whom ; Michili- iny years. he Indian and open f the Red imstances. ses of his lers could m, or but )us means is natural of feeling, le at ficst of feelings nn can be* THE SAUSTAWRAYTSEES, Oft THE ORIGIN OF THE WYANDOT AND SENECA TRIBES. A WYANDOT TRADITION. Towards the middle of the seventeenth century, a body of Indians, com posed of the Wyandots (or as they weie then called the Saus-taw-ray- tsee) and Seneca tribes inhabited the borders of Lake Ontario. The pre- sent Wyandots and Senecas are the remains of this community, and of the cause of their separation and of the relentless hostilities by which it was succeeded, the following details are given in the truditionary history of the Wyandots. A Wyandot girl, whose name for the sake of distinction shall be Oou' yay-ilee, and in whom appeared united a rare combination of moral attrac- tions, and of extraordinary personal beauty, had for her suitors, nearly all the young men of her tribe. As insensible however, as beautiful, the attentions of her lovers were productive of no favorable effect, for though none were rejected, yet neither was any one distinguished by her partiality. This unaccountable apathy became, in time, a subject not only of general, but of common interest to the young Wyandots. A council composed of those interested in the issue of these many and importunate applications for her favor, was held for the purpose of devising some method, by which her intentions in relation to them might be ascertained. At this, when these amourists had severally conceded, each, that he could boast of no in- dication of a preference shown by Oon-yay-stee to himself, upon which to found a reasonable hope of uhimately succeeding, it was finally deter- mined, that their claims should be withdrawn in favor of the War Chief of their lodge. This was adopted, not so much for the purpose of advan eing the interests of another to the prejudice of their own, as to avoid the numiliating alternative of yielding the object of so much competition tc some more fortunate rival not connected with their band. It may be here necessary to remark that nearly all the suitors belonged to one lodge, and that each of these was a large oblonir building, capabl* of containing 20 or 30 families, the domestic arrangements of which were regulated by a war chief, acknowledged as the head of that particular sub- ordinate band. Many objections to the task imposed on him by this proposition were 91 92 HISTORICAL TRADITIONS. interposed by the chief, the principal of wliich were, the great disparity of age and the utter futility of any furtiier atttinpt, upon the affections of one so obdurate of heart. The fust was obviatid by some well applied com- mendations of his person, and the second yicIJed to the suijgestion that women were often capricious, were not always influenced by considera- tions the most natural, or resolvable to reasons tlie most obvious. The chief then painted and arrayed himself ns for battle, bestowing some little additional adornment upon his person, to aid him in this species of warfare, with which he was not altogether so familiar as that in which he had acijuired his reputation ; his practice having been confined rather to the use of stone-headed arrows than love darts, and his dexterity in the management of hearts displayed rather in making bloody incisions, than tender impressions. Before he left the lodge, his retainers pledged them- selves, that if the prosecution of this adventure should impose upon their chief the necessity of performing any feat, to render him better worthy the acceptance of Oon-yay-stec, they would aid him in its accomplishment, and sustain him against its consequences to the last extremity. It was re- served for so adventurous a spirit that it should be as successful in love, as it had hitherto been resistless in war. After a courtship of a few days, he proposed himself and was condition- ally accepted, but what the nature of this condition was, further than that it was indispensable, Oon-yay-stee refused to tell him, until he should have given her the strongest assurances that it should be complied with. After some hesitation and a consultation with the lovers who urged him to give the promise, he declared himself ready to accept the terms of the compact. Under her direction he then pledged the word of a warrior, that neither peril to person, nor sacrifice of affection should ever prevail with him to desist, imprecating the vengeance of Hau-mea-dee-zhoo, and the persecution of Dnirk-shno-no-roo-no upon his head if he failed to prosecute to the uttermost, the enterprise, if its accomplishment were only possible. She told him to bring her the scalp of a Seneca chief whom she desig- nated, who for some reason she chose not to reveal, was the object of her hatred. The Wyandot saw too late, that he was committed. He besought her to reflect, that this man was his bosom friend, they had eaten and drank and grown up together — and how heavy it would make his heart to think that his friend had perished by his hand. He remonstrated with her op the cruelty of such A requisition, on the infamy of such an outrage of con fidence and the execration which would forever pursue the author of an action so accursed. But his expostulations were made to deaf ears. She (old him either to redeem his pledge, or consent to be proclaimed for a lying dog, whose promises were unworthy ever to be heard, and then left him. HISTORICAf. TBADITIONS. 93 An hour luiJ hardly elapsed, before tlio infuriated Wyandot blackened his face, entered the Seneca Village, tomahawked and scalped his friend, and as he rushed out of the lodge shouted the scalp-whoop. In the dark- ness of the night his person could not be distinguished, and he was chal- lenged by a Seneca to whom he gave his name, purpose, and a defiance and then continued his flight. But before it had terminated, the long mournful scalp-whoop of the Senecas was resounding through the Wy- nndot Village; and the chief had hardly joined in the furious conflict that ensued hetween the avengers of his murdered victim and his own retain- ers, before he paid with his life the forfeit of his treachery. After a deadly and sustained combat for three days and nights, witn alternate success, the Wyandots were compelled Vo retire, deserting their village and abandoning their families to such mercy as might be granted by an infuriated enemy. Those who were left, sunk under the tomahawk and scalping knife — the village was devastated — and the miserable author of the bloody tragedy herself perished amid this scene of indiscriminate slaughter and desolation. This war is said to have continued for a period of more than 30 years, in which time, the Wyandots had been forced backwards as far as Lakes Huron and Michigan. Here they made an obstinate stand, from which all the efforts of their relentless enemies to dislodge them were incflectual. Their inveterate hatred of each other was fostered by the war parties of the respective tribes, whose vindictive feelings led them to hunt and de- stroy each other, like so many beasts of the forest. These resulted gene- rally in favor of the Wyandots, who, inspirited by these partial successes, prepared for more active operations. Three encounters took place, on the same day, two being had on Lake Michigan and one on Lake Erie, and which from their savage and exterminating character, closed this long and merciless conte.st. It is somewhat remarkable, as no other tradition makes mention of an Indian battle upon water, that one of these, sa! ? to have occurred on Lake Erie, between Long Point and Fort Talbot, t, j;- fought in canoes. Of this the following detail is given. A large body of Wyandots accompanied by two Ottawas left Lake Hu- ron in birch canoes, on a war excursion into the country of the Senecas, who had settled at this time, near the head of the Niagara river. They put ashore at Long Point to cook, when qiie of the Ottawas and a Wyan- dot were sent out as spies to reconnoitre. They had proceeded but a short distance from the camp, when they met two Senecas, who had been de- spatched by their party for the like purposes, and from whom they instantly fled. The Ottawa finding his pursuers gaining upon him, hid himself in the branches (;f a spruce tree, where he remained till the Seneca had passed. The Wyandot, fleeter of foot, Succeeded in reaching his camp and gave the alarm, when the whole body embarked and pushed out into the lake. In another moment a party of Senecas was discovered, turning M EARLY SKETCHES OF INDIAN DPOMEN. tho nearest point of land in wooden canoes. Immediately the war-whoops were sounded and the hostile bands began to chant their respective songs. As they slowly approached each other, the Wyandots struck a fire, ond prepared their gum and bark to repair any damage which might occur to the canoes. The battle was fought with bows and arrows, and after a furious and obstinate contest of some hours, in which the carnage was dreadful, and the canoes were beginning to fill with blood, water and man- gled bodies, the Senecas began to give way. The encouraged Wyandots fought with redoubled ardor, driving the Senecas to the shore, where the conflict was renewed with unabated fury. The Wyandots were victorious, and few of the surviving Senecas escaped to tell the story of their defeat. One of the prisoners, a boy, was spared and adopted by the nation. Two Wyandots are now living who profess to have seen him, when very far advanced in years. The two other attacks to ^vhich allusion has been made, as occurring on the borders of Lake Michigan, were not more fortunate in their issue. The Senecas wore repulsed with great slaughter. Thus, say the Wyandots, originated this long, bloody and disastrous war, and thus it terminated after proving nearly the ruin of our nation. HO-TSHUNG-RAH. Upper Sandusky, March Is/, 1827. EARLY SKETCHES OF INDIAN WOMEN. The oldest books we possess written by the first observers of our In- dians abound in interest. Among these is a small work by William Wood, who visited Plymouth and Massachusetts soon after their settlement, and puUished his "iVew England's Prospect," in London, in 1634. The following extract from this book, (now very scarce,) we make here, partly for the purpose which the author declares he had in view in writing it, viz. : to excite the speoial interest of our female readers, though the good humour and wit, as well as the benevolence of the writer, will doubtless commend it to persons of both sexes. That we may not run the risk of losing any of the effect of the quaint, old-fashioned style of the original, we have been careful to preserve the author's orthography and punctuation, together with the long sentences, for which, as well as many of his contemporaries, he was remarkable. We have omitted short and unimportant passages in a few places, marked with asterisks. E. V hoops songs. re, and ccur to after a ge was id man- ynndots lere the torious, deFcut. Two 'ery far curring ir issue. sastrous ation. H. IN. our In- Wood, ent, and make view in though iter, will not run style of ography well as ted short E. Im I I THE INDIAN MAIDEN WASB ASH AS; THE TRIBE THAT GREW OUT OF A SHELL AN OSAGE LEGEND. There was a snail living on the banks of the river Missouri, where he found plenty of food, and wanted nothing. But at length the waters be- gan to rise and overflow its banks, and although the little animal clung to a log, the flood carried them both away : they floated along for many days. When the water fell, the poor snail was left in the mud and slime, on shore. The heat of the sun came out so strong, that he was soon flxed in the slime and could not stir. He could no longer get any nourish- ment. He became oppressed with heat and drought. He resigned him- aelf to his fate and prepared to die. But oil at once, he felt a renewed vigour. His shell burst open, and he began to rise. His head gradually rose above the ground, he felt his lower extremities assuming the charac- ter of feet and legs. Arms extended from his sides. He felt their ex- tremities divide into fingers. In fine he rose, under the influence of one day's sun, into a tall and noble man. For a while he remained in a dull und stupid state. He had but little activity, and no clear thoughts. These all came by degrees, and when his recollections returned, he re- solved to travel back to his native land. But he was naked and ignorant. The first want he felt was hunger. He saw beasts and birds, as he walked along, but he knew not how to kill them. He wished himself again a snail, for he knew how, in that form, to get his food. At length he became so weak, by walking and fasting, that he laid himself down, on a grassy bank, to die. He had not laid long, when he heard a voice calling him by name. " Was-bas-has," exclaimed the voice. He looked up, and beheld the Great Spirit sitting on a white horse. His eyes glistened like stars. The hair of his head shone like the sun. He could not bear to look upon him. He trembled from head to foot. Again the voice spoke to him in a mild tone* " Was-bas-has I Why do you look terrified ?" " I tremble," he replied, because 1 stand before Him who raised me from the ground. I am faint 95 96 WASBASHAS. and hungry, — I have eaten nothing since the floods left me upon the shore —a little shell." The (5reat Spirit here lifted up his hands and displaying a bow and arrows, told him to look at him. At a distance sat a bird on a tree. He put an arrow to the string, and pulling it with force, brought down the beautiful object. At this moment a deer came in sight. He placed ano- ther arrow to the string, and pierced it through and through. " These" said he, '"arc your food, and these are your arms,'' handing him the bdw and arrows. He then instructed him how to remove the skin of the deer, and prepare it for a garment. " You are naked," said he, "and must be clothed ; it is now warm, but the skies will change, and bring rains, and snow, and cold winds." Having said this, he also imparted the gift of fire, and instructed him how to roast the flesh. He then placed a collar of wampum around his neck. " This," said he, " is your authority over all beasts." Having done this, both horse and rider rose up, and vanished from his sight. Was-bas-has refreshed himself, and now pursued his way to his native land. He had seated himself on the banks of the river, and was medita- ting on what bad passed, when a lavge beaver rose up from the channel and addressed him. " Who art thou ;" said the beaver, " that comest here to disturb my ancient reign?" "lamajnan," he replied; " I was once a s/teW, a creeping shell ; but who art thou ?" " I am king of the nation of beavers," he answered : " I lead my people up and down this stream ; we are a busy people, and the river is my dominion." " I must divide it with you," re- torted Was-bas-has. " The Great Spirit has placed me at the head of beasts and birds, fishes and fowl ; and has provided me with the power of maintaining my rights." Here he held up the bow and arrows, and displayed the collar of shells around his neck. " Come, come," said the Beaver, modifying his tone, " I perceive wc are brothers. — Walk with me to my lodge, and refresh yourself after your journey," and so saying he led the way. The Snail-Man willingly obeyed his invitation, and had no reason to repent of his confidence. They soon entered a fine large vil- lage, and his host led him to the chiefs lodge. It was a well-built room, of a cone-shape, and the floor nicely covered with mats. As soon as they were seated, the Beaver directed his wife and daughter to prepare food for their guest. While this was getting ready, the Beaver chief thought he would improve his opportunity by making a fast friend of so superior a being ; whom he saw, at the same time, to be but a novice. He informed him of the method they had of cutting down trees, with their teeth, and of felling them across streams, so as to dam up the water, and de- scribed the method of finishing their uams whh leaves and clay. He also instructed him in the way of erecting lodges, and with other wise and seasonable conversation beguiled the time. His wife and daughter now entered, bringmg in vessels of fresh peeled poplar, and willow, and sussa- ORIGIN OF THE OORMOUbU. 97 fras, nnd alder bark, which is the most choice food known to thctn. Of this, Was-bas-has made a merit of tasting, while his entertainer devoured it with pleasure. He was pleased with the modest looks and deportment of the chief's daughter, and her cleanly and neat attire, and her assiduous attention to the commands of her father. This was ripened into esteem by the visit he made her. A mutual attachment ensued. A union was proposed to the father, who was rejoiced to find so advantageous a match for his daughter. A great feast was prepared, to which all the beavers, and other animals on good terms with them, were invited. The Snail- Man and the Beaver-Maid were thus united, and this union is the origin of the Osages. So it is said by the old people. THE BOY WHO SET A SNARE FOR THE SUN; OK THE ORIGIN OF THE KUG-E-BEENG-WA-KWA,* OR DORMOUSE. re- FROM THE ODJIBWA ALGONQUIN. At the time when the animals reigned in the earth, they had killed all but a girl, and her little brother, and these two were living in fear and se- clusion. The boy was a perfect pigmy, and never grew beyond the stature of a small infant ; but the girl increased with her years, so that the labor of providing food and lodging devolved wholly on her. She went out daily to get wood for their lodge-fire, and took her little brother along that no accident might happen to him ; for he was too little to leave alone. A big bird might have flown away with him. She made him a bow and arrows, and aiid to him one day, " I will leave you behind where I have been chopping — you must hide yourself, and y^iu will soon see the Git- shce-gitshee-gaun, ai seeug or snow birds, come and pick the worms out of the wood, where I have been chopping," (for it was in the winter.) " Shoot one of them and bring it home." He obeyed her, and tried his best to kill Oi'e, but came home unsuccessful. She told him he must not despair, but try again the nex* day. She accordingly left him at the place she got wood, and returned. Towards nightfall, she heard his little footsteps on the snow, and he camo in e.vuUingly, and threw down one of the birds, which he had killed. " My sister," said he, " I wish you to skin it and stretch the skin, and when I have killed more, I will have a coat made out of them." " But what shall wc do with the body ?" said she : for as yet men had not begun to eat animal food, but lived on vegetables alone. " Cut it in two," he answered, " and season our pottage with one half of it * Blind Woman. 7 lap E m ^fl M I Hii 88 ORIGIN OP THE DORMOVSE. at a time." She did so. The boy, who was of a very small stature, con- tinued his efforts, and succeeded in killing ten birds, out of the skins of which his sister made him a little coat. "Sister," said he one day, "are we all alone in the Avorld ? Is there nobody else living-?" She told him that those they feared and who had destroyed their relatives lived in a certnin quarter, and that he must by no means go in that direction. This only served to inflame his curiosity and raise his ambition, and he soon after took his bow and arrows and went in that direction. After walking a long time and meeting nothing, he became tired, and lay down on a knoll, where the sun had melted the snow. He fell fast asleep; and while sleeping, the sun beat so hot upon him, that it singed and drew up his bird-skin coat, so that when he awoke and stretched himself, he felt bound m it, as it were. He looked down and saw the damage done to his coat. He flew into a passion and upbraided the sun, and vowed vengeance against it. " Do not think you are too high," said he, *' I shall revenge myself" On coming home he related his disaster to his sister, and lamented bit- terly the spoiling of his coat. He would not eat. He lay down as one that fasts, and did not stir, or move his position for ten days, though she tried all she could to arouse him. At the end often days, he turned over, and then lay ten daj'S on the other side. When he got up, he told his sister to make him a snaie, for he meant to catch the sun. She said she had nothing; but finally recollected a little piece of dried deer's sinew, that her father had left, which she soon made into a string suitable for a noose. But the moment she showed it to him, he told her it would not do, and bid her get something else. She said she had nothing — notliing at all. At last she thought of her hair, and pulling some of it out of her head, made a string. But he instantly said it would not answer, and bid her, pettishly, and with authority, make him a noose. She told him there was nothing to make it of, anu went out of the lodge. She said to her- self, when she had got without the lodge, and while she was all alone, "neow obewy indapin." Tliis she did, and twisting them into a tiny cord she handed it to her brother. The moment he saw this curious braid he was delighted. '■' This will do," he said, and immediately put it to his mouth and began pulling it through his lips ; and as fast as he drew it changed it into a red metal cord, which he wound around his body and shoulders, till he had a large quantity. He then prepared himself, and set out a little after midnight, that he might catch the sun before it lose. He fi.xed his snare on a spot just wliere the sun would strii^e the land, as it rose above the earth's disc ; and sure enougii, he caught the sun, so that it was held fast in the cord, and did not rise. The animals who ruled the earth were immediately put into a great commotion. They had no light. They called a council to debate upon the matter, and to appoint some one to go and cut the cord — for tiiis AMPATA SAPA. 99 re, con- kins of notocly eslroyed leans go •aise hia ; in that became nv. He m, that it oke and own and ipbraided 1 are too ented bit- vn as one liough she nied over, le told his le said she sinew, that or a noose. lOt do, and ing at all. ler head, id bid her, uiu there said to her- all alone, into a tiny lis curious iulely put it as he drew is body and iuiself, and fore it rose, the land, as sun, so that into a groat lebate upon d— for this was a very hazardous enterprize, as the rays of the sun would burn who- ever came so near to them. At last the dormouse undertook it — for at this time the dormouse was the largest animal in the world. When it stood up it looked like a mountain. When it got to the place where the sun was snared, its back began to smoke and burn, with the intensity of the heat, and the top of its carcass was reduced to enormous heaps of ashes. It succeeded, however, in cutting the cord with its teeth, and free- ing the sun, but it was reduced to a very small size, and has remained so ever since. Men call it the Kug-e-been-g\va-kwa. AMPATA SAPA; OR, THE FIRST-WIFE. A TRADITION OF THE DACOTAHS. Ampata Sapa was the wife of a brave young hunter and warrior, by whom she had two children. They lived together in great happiness, which was only varied by the changes of a forest life. Sometimes they lived on the prairies ; sometimes they built their wigwam in the forest, near the bmks of a stream, and they paddled their canoe up and down the rivers. In these trips they got fish, when they were tired of wild meats. In the summer season they kept on the open grounds ; in the winter, they fi.xed liv.ir camp in a sheltered position, in the woods. The very change of their camp was a source of pleasure, for they were always on the look- out for something nnw. They had plenty, and they wanted nothing. In this manner the first years of their marriage passed away. But it so happened, that as years went by, the reputation of her husband in the tribe increased, and he soon camo to be regarded as a Weetshahstshy Atapee, or chief This opened a nc field for his ambition and pride. The fame of a ciiicf, it is well known, is often increased by the number of his wives. His lodge was now thronged with visitors. Some came to consult him ; some to gnin his favour. All this gave Ampata Sapa no uneasiness, for the Red People like to have visitors, and to show hospitality. The first thing that caused a jar in her mind, was the rumour that her husband was about to take a new wife. This was like a poison in her veins ; for she had a big heart. She was much attached to her husband, and she could not bear the idea of sharing his affections with another. But she found that the idea had already got strong hold of her husband's mind, and her remon- strances did little good. He defended himself on the ground, that it would give him greater influence in the tribe if he took the daughter of a noted ill 100 AM PAT A SAPA. chief. liiit before ho had time to bring her to his lodge, Ampata Sapn had fled from it, taking her two ciiildrcn, and returned to her father's lodge. Her father lived at some distance, and here she remained a short time in quiet. The whole band soon moved up the Mississippi, to their hunting ground. She was glad to go with them, and would, indeed, have been glad to go any where, to get farther from the lodge of her faithless husband. Here the winter wore away. When the Spring opened, they came back again to the banks of the river, and mended and fitted up the canoes, which they had left in the fall. In these they put their furs, and de- scended to the Falls of St. Anthony. Ampata Sapa lingered behind a short time the morning of their embarkation, as they began to draw near the rapids which precede the great plunge. She then put her canoe in the water, and embarked with her children. As she approached the falls, the increasing velocity of the current rendered the paddles of but little use. She rested with her's suspended in her hands, while she arose, and uttered her lament : "It was him only that I loved, with the love of my heart. It was for him that I prepared, with joy, the fresh killed meat, and swept with boughs my lodge-fire. It was for him I dressed the skin of the noble deer, and worked, with my hands, the Moccasins that graced his feet. I waited while the sun ran his daily course, for his return from the chase, and I rejoiced in my heart when I heard his manly footsteps ap- proach the lodge. He threw down his burden at the door — it was a haunch of the deer ; — I flew to prepare the meat for his use. My heart was bound up in him, and he was all the world to me. But he has left me for another, and life is now a burden which I cannot bear. Even my children add to my griefs — tiiey look so much like him. IIow can I support life, when all its moments are bitter ! I have lifted up my voice to the Master of life. I have asked him to take back that life, which he gave, and which I no longer wish. I am on the current that hastens to fulfil my prayer. I see the white foam of the water. It is my shroud. I hear the deep murmur from below. It is my funeral song. Farewell. It was too late to arrest her course. She bad approached too near the abyss, before her purpose was discovered by her friends. They beheld her enter the foam — they saw the canoe for an instant, on the verge, and then disappear for ever. Such was the end of Ampata Sapa ; and they say her canoe can sometimes be seen, by moonlight, plunging over the falls. Internal dissention has done more to destroy the Indian power in America, than the white man's sword. Could the tribes learn the wis- dom of confederation, they might yet be saved. This is a problem now undergoing an interesting process of solution. Sapn ilhcr's I sliort ) their I, have lith r came canoes, and tle- jhind a iw near ;anoe in ihe falls, )ut little ose, and , was for ept with ible deer, from the )tsteps ap- _it was a me. But nnot bear, m. How cd up my life, which at hastens ly shroud, arewell. 10 near the ley beheld verge, and nd tlicy say the fulls. power m rn the wis- oblem now MUKAKKR MINDEMOEA; on, THE TOAD-WOMAN. AN ODJIBWA TALK. (Jkeat good luck once happened lo a young woman who was living all alone m the woods, with nobody near her but her liulc, dog, for, to lier sur- jrise, slie found fresh meat t!very morning at lier door. She felt very an.xious to know who it was lliat supplied her, and watching one morning, very early, she saw a han('8or.ie young man deposit the meat. After his being seen by her, he became her husband, and she liad a son by him. One day not long after this, the man did not return at evening, as usual, frotn himting. She waited till late at night, but all in vain. Ne.xt day she swung her baby to sleep in its tikemigun, or cradle, and then said to her dog: " Take care of your brother whilst I am gone, and when he cries, halloo for me." The cradle was made of the finest wampum, and all its bandages and decorations were ot the same costly material. After a shoit time the woman heard the cry of her faithful dog, and running home as fast as she could, she found her child gone and the dog too. But on looking round, she saw pieces of the wampum of her child's cradle bit off by the dog, who strove to retain the child and prevent his being carried off by an old woman called Mukakee Mindemoea, or the Toad- Woman. Tlie mother followed at full speed, and occasionally came to lodges irdiabited by old women, who told her at what time the thief had passed ; they also gave her shoes, that she might follow on. There were a number of these old women, \'. ho seemed as if they were all prophetesses. Each of them would say to her, that when she arrived in pursuit of her stolen child at the ne.xt lodge, she must set the toes of the moccasins they had loaned her pointing homewards, and they would return of themselves. She would get others from her entertainers farther on, who would also give her directions how to proceed to recover her son. She thus followed in the pursuit, from valley to valley, and stream to stream, for months and years ; when she came, at length, to the lodge of the last of the friendly old Nocoes, or grandmothers, as they were called, who gave lier final iustruc, tions how to proceed. She told her she was near the place where her son was, and directed her to build a lodge of shingoob, or cedar boughs, near the old Toad- Woman's lodge, and to make a little bark dish and s([ueeze her milk into it. " Then," she said, " your first child (meaning the dog) will come and find you out'' She did accordingly, and in a short time 101 •\m 102 MUKAKEE MINDEMOEA. she heard her son, now grown, going out to hunt, with his dog, calling out to him, " Monedo Pcwaubik (that is, Steel or Spirit Iron,) Twee . Twee!" She then set ready the dish and filled it with her milk. The dog soon scented it and came into the lodge; she placed it bi^fore him. " See my child," said she, addressing him, " the food you used to have from me, your mother." The dog went and told his young niasler tliat he had found his real mother ; and informed him that the old woman, whom he called his mother, was not his mother, that she had stolen him \\hti\ an infant in his cradle, and that he had himself followed her in hopes of get- ting him back. The young man and his dog then went on their hunting excursion, and brought back a great quantity of meat of all kinds. Fie said to his pretended mother, as he laid it down, " Send some to the stranger that iias arrived lately." The old hag answered, " No I why should I send to her — the Sheegowish."* He insisted ; and she at last consented to take something, throwing it in at the door, with the remark, "My son gives you, or feeds you this." But it was of such an ofl'ensive nature, that she threw it immediately out after her. After this the young man paid the stranger a visit, at her lodge of cedar boughs, and partook of her dish of milk. She then told him she was his real mother, and that he had been stolen away from her by the detestable Toad-Woman, who was a witch. He was not quite convinced. She said to him, " Feign yourself sick, when you go home, and when the Toad- Woman asks what ails you, say that you want to see your cradle ; for your cradle was of wampum, and your faithful brother, the dog, bit a piece off to try and detain you, which I picked up, as I followed in your track. They were real wampum, white and blue, shining and beautiful." She then showed him the pieces. He went home and did as his real mother bid him. " Mother," said he, " why am I so different in my looks from the rest of your children?" " Oh," said she, "it was a very bright clear blue sky when you were born ; that is the reason." When the Toad-Woman saw he was ill, she asked what she could do for liim. He said nothing would do him good, but the sight of his cradle. She ran immediately and got a cedar cradle; but he said " That is not my cradle." She went and got one of her own children's cradles, (for she had four.) but he turned his head and said, " That is not mine." She then produced the real cradle, and he saw it was the same, in substance, with the pieces the other had shown him ; and he was convinced, for he could even see the marks of the dog's teeth upon it. He soon got well, and went out hunting, and killed a fat bear. He and his dog-brother then stripped a tall pine of all its branches, and stuck the carcass on the top, taking the usual sign of his having killed an animal — the tongue. He told the Toad- Woman where he had left it, saying, " It is very far, even to the end of the earth." She answered, " It is not so far * Sheegowis$, a widow, and tnoteigh, something nasty. T MUKAKEE MINDEMOEA. 103 but I can get it," so off she set. As soon as she was gone, the young man and his dog killed the Toad-Woman's children, and staked them on each side of the door, with a piece of fat in their mouths, and then went to his real mother and hastened her departure with them. The Toad-Woman spent a long time in finding the bear, and had much ado in climbing the tree to get down the carcass, As she got near home, she saw the children looking out, apparently, with the fat in their mouths, and was angry at them, saying, " Why do you destroy the pomatum of your brother." But her fury was great indeed, when she saw they were killed and impaled. She ran after the fugitives as fast as she could, and was near overtaking them, when the young man said, " We are pressed hard, but let this stay her progress,"' throwing his fire steel behind him, which caused the Toad- Woman to slip and fall repeatedly. But still she pursued and gained on them, when he threw behind him his flint, which again retarded her, for it made her slip and stumble, so that her knees were bleeding ; but she continued to follow on, and was gaining ground, when the young man said, " Let the Oshau shaw go min un (snake berry) spring up to detain her," and immediately these berries spread like scarlet all over the path for a long distance, which she could not avoid stooping down to pick and eat. Still she went on, and was again advancing on them, when the young man at last, said to the dog, " Brother, chew her into mummy, for she plagues us." So the dog, turning round, seized her and tore her to pieces, and they escaped. nj* "It Death is frightful, or welcome, according to the theories men have of it To the Indian, it is a pleasing and welcome event. He believes a future state to be one of rewards, and restitutions, and not of punishments. The Indian idea of paradise is the idea of the orientals. It consists of sensualities, not spiritualities. He expects the scene to furnish him ease and plenty. Ease and plenty make the Indian's happiness here, and his heaven is but a bright transcript of his earth. Paganism and idolatry, require more mysteries for their support than Christianity. The Christian has but one God, existing in three hypostases. It would be below the truth to say that the Indian has one hundred thou- sand gods. The Hindoos icorahip their multiform gods of the earth, air and sea. The North American Indian only believes in them. He worships the Great Spirit. Wild thoughts are often bright thoughts, but like the wild leaps of a mountain torrent, they are evanescent and unequal. We are dazzled by a single figure in an Indian speech, but it is too often like a spark amid a shower of ashes. '^HE FLIGHT OF THE SHAWNEES FROM THE SOUTH. A MOHEGAN TRADITION. Metoxon states, that the Shavvnees were, in ancient times, while they lived in the south, defeated by a confederacy of surrounding tribes, and in danger of being totally cut off and annihilated, had it not been for the in- terference of the Mohegans and Dela wares. An alliance between them and the Mohegans, happened in this way. Whilst the Mohegans lived at Schodack, on the Hudson river, a young warrior of that tribe visited the Shawnees, at their southern residence, and formed a close friendship with a young warrior of his own age. They became as brothers, and vowed for ever to treat each other as such. The Mohegan warrior had returned, and been some years living with his nation, on the banks of the Chatimac, or Hudson, when a general war broke out against the Shawnees. The restless and warlike disposition of this tribe, kept them constantly embroiled with their neighbours. They were unfaithful to their treaties, and this was the cause of perpetual troubles and wars. At length the nations of the south resolved, by a general ef- fort, to rid themselves of so troublesome a people, and began a war, in which the Shawnees were defeated, battle after battle, with great loss. In this emergency, the Mohegan thought of his Shawnee brother, and re- solved to rescue him. He raised a war-party and being joined by the Le* napees, since called Delawares, they marched to their relief, and brought off the remnant of the tribe to the country of the Lenapees. Here they were put under the charge of the latter, as their grandfather. They were now, in the Indian phrase, put between their grandllither's knees, and treated as little children. Their hands were clasped and tied together — that is to say, they were taken under their protection, and formed a close alliance. But still, sometimes the child would creep out 104 FLIGHT OF THE SHAWNEES. 105 under the old man's legs, and get into trouble — implying that the Shaw- nees could never forget their warlike propensities. Tiie events of the subsequent history of this tribe, after the settlement of America are well known. With the Lenapees, or Delawares, they mi- grated westward. Tiie above tradition was received from the respectable and venrruble chief, above named, in 1827, during the negotiation of thctreaty of Duties dcs Morh'j on Fox river. At this treaty his people, bearing the modern name of Stockbridges, were present, having, within a few years, migrated from their former position in Oneida county, New York, to the waters of Fox river, in Wisconsin. Metoxon was a man of veracity, and of reflective and temperate habits, united to urbanity of manners, and estimable qualities of head and heart, as I had occasion to know from several years' acquaintance with him, be- fore he, and his people went from Vernon to the west, as well as after he migrated thither. The tradition, perhaps with the natural partiality of a tribesman, lays too much stress upon a noble and generous act of individual and tribal friendship, but is not inconsistant with other relations, of the early south- ern position, and irrascible temper of the Shawnee tribe. Their name it- self, which is a derivative from 0-sha-wan-ong, the place of the South, is strong presumptive evidence of a former residence in, or origin from, the extreme south. Mr. John Johnston, who was for many years the govern- ment agent of this tribe at Piqua, in Ohio, traces them, in an article in the Archoelogia Americana (vol. i, p. 273) to the Suwanee river in Florida. Mr. Gallatin, in the second volume of the same work (p. G.5) points out their track, from historical sources of undoubted authority, to the banks of the upper Savannah, in Georgia ; but remarks that they have only been well known to us since 1680. They are first mentioned in our scaUered Indian annals, by De Laet, in 1632. It may further be said, in relation to Metoxon's tradition, that there is authority for asserting, that in the flight of the Shawnees from the south, a part of them descended the Kentucky river west, to the Ohio valley, where, in after times, the Shawnees of Pennsylvania and New Jersey, rather formed a re-union with this division of their kindred than led the way for them. To depart one step from barbarism, is to take one step towards civiliza- tion. To abandon the lodge of bark — to throw aside the blanket — to dis- continue the use of paints — or to neglect the nocturnal orgies of the wa- beno, are as certain indications of incipient civilization, as it unquestion- ably is, to substitute alphabetical characters for rude hieroglyphics, or to prefer the regular cadences of the gamut, to the wild chanting of the chi- chigwun. I HT"' ^ ii BOSH-KWADOSH, OK THE QUADRUPED WITH THE HAIR BLOWN OFF ITS SKIX. TiiniiE was once a man who found himself alone in the world. Ho knew not whence ho ciirne, nor who wore his parents, antl he wandered about from place to place, in search of something'. At last he became wearied and fell asleep. He dreamed that he heard a voice saying, " Nosis," that is, my grandchild. When he awoke he actually heard the word repeated, and looking oroimd, he saw a tiny little animal hardly big enough to be seen on the plain. While doubting whether the voice could come from such a diminutive source, the little animal said to him, " My grandson, you will call me Bosh-kwa-dosh. Why are you so desolate. Listen to me, and you shall find friends and be happy. You must take me up and bind me to your body, and never put me aside, and success in life shall attend you." He obeyed the voice, sewing up the little animal in the folds of a string, or narrow belt, which he tied around his body, at his navel. He then set out in search of someone like himself, or other object. He walked a longtime in woods without seeing man or animal. He seemed all alone in the world. At length he came to a place where a stump was cut, and on going over a hill he descried a large town in a plain. A wide road led through the middle of it ; but what seemed strange was, that on one side there weie no itiliabitunts in the lodges, while the other side was thickly inhabited. He walked boldly into the town. The inhabitants came out and said ; " Why here is the being we have heard so much of — here is Anisli-in-a-ba. See his eyes, and ills toclh in a half circle — see the Wyaukenawbedaid I See his bowels, how they are formed ;" — for it seems tlicy could look through him. The king's son, the Mudjekewis, was particularly kind to him, and calling him brother-in-law, commanded that he should be taken to his father's lodge and received with attention. The king gave him one of his daughters, 'i'hcije people, (who are supposed to be human, but whose rank in the scale of being is left equivocal,) passed much of their time in play and sports and trials of various kinds. When some time had passed, and he had become re 106 pr sicP md tii B08H-KWA-D0.SII. 107 freshed and rested, ho was invited to join in tiiese sports. The first test which they put him to, was the trial of frost. At some distance was a larg'o hody of frozen water, and the trial consisted in lying down naked on the ice, and seeing who could endure the longest. lie went out with two young men, who began, l>y pulling ofT their garments, and lying down on their faces. He did likewisi^, only keeping on the narrow magic belt with the tiny little animal sewed in it ; for he feh that in this alone was to lie his reliance and preservation. Flis c<.n!|)etitois laughid and tittered during the early part of the night, and amused themselves by thoughts of his fate. Once they called out to him, but he made no reply. He felt a manifest warmth given out by hi.s belt. About midnight finding they were still, he called out to them, in return, — '' What!" said he, "are you be- numbed already, I am but just beginning to feel a little cold." All was si- lence. He, however, kept his position till early day break, when he got up and went to them. They were both quite dead, and frozen so hard, that the flesh had bursted out under their finger nails, and their teeth stood out. As he looked more closely, what was his surprise to find them both transformed into bufllilo cows. He tied them together, and carried them towards the village. As he came in sight, those who had wished his death were disappointed, but the Mudjekewis, who was really his friend, rejoiced. "See!" said he " but one person approaches, — it is my brother-in-law." He then threw down the carcasses in triumph, but it was found that by their death he had restored two inhabitants to the before empty lodges, and he afterwards perceived, that every one of these beings, whom he killed, had the like efl'ect, so that the depopulated part of the village soon became filled with people. The next test they put him to, was the trial of speed. He was chal- lenged to the race ground, and began his career with one whom he thought to be a man ; but every thing was enchanted here, for he soon discovered that his competitor was a large black bear. The animal outran him, tore up the ground, and sported before him, and put out its large claws as if to frighten him. He thought of his little guardian spirit in the belt, and wishing to have the swiftness of the Kakake, i. e. sparrow hawk, he found himself rising from the ground, and with llie speed of this bird he outwent his rival, and won the race, while the bear came up exhausted and lolling out his tongue. His friend the Mudjekewis stood ready, with his war-club, at the goal, and the moment the bear came up, dispatched him. He then turned to the assembly, who had wished his friend and brother's death, and after re- proaching them, he lifted up his club and began to slay them on every side. They fell in heaps on all sides; but it was plain to be seen, the moment they fell, that they were not men, but animals, — foxes, wolves, tigers, lynxes, and other kinds, lay thick around the Mudjekewis. Still the villagers were not satisfied. They thought the trial of frost, •: -. 1 ' :t . ,i , 108 B08H-KWA-D08H. had not bcon fairly accomplished, nnd wished it repeated. Ho agreed to repnut it, but being fatiirned with the rncc, he undid his gunrdinn belt, nnd laying it under his hcud, fell nsleep. When ho awolte, ho felt re- freshed, nnd feeling sliong in his own strength, he went forward to renew the trial on tiie ice, but quite forgot tho belt, nor did it at all occur to him when he awoke, or when ho lay down to repent the trial. About midnight his limbs bec;une stifT, the blood soon censed to circulate, nnd he was found in the morning, a stiff corpse. The victors took him up and carried him to tho village, where tho loudest tumult of vic- torious joy was made, and they cut the body into a thousand pieces, that each one might eat a piece. Tho Mudjekowis bemoaned his fate, but his wife wns inconsolable. She lay in a state of partial distraction, in tho lodge. As she lay here, she thought she heard some one groaning. It wns repeated through the night, and in the morning, she carefully scanned the place, and running her fingers through the grass, she discovered the secret belt, on the spot where her hus- band had last reposed. " Aiibishin !" cried the belt — that is, untie me, or unloose me. Looking carefully, she found the small seam which enclosed the tiny little animal. It cried out the more earnestly "Aubishin!" and when she had carefully ripped the seams, she beheld, to her surprise, a mi- nute, naked little beast, smaller than the sm.illest new born mouse, without any vestige of hair, e.Kcept at the tip of its tail, it could crawl a few inches, but reposed from fatigue. It then went forward again. At each movement it would pupoiree, that is to say, shake itself, like a dog, nnd at each shake it becnme larger. This it continued until it acquired the strength and size of a middle sized dog, when it ran off! The mysterious dog ran to the lodges, about the village, looking for tho bones of his friend, which he carried to a secret place, and ns fast as he found them arranged all in their natural order. At length he had formed nil tho skeleton complete, e.vcept the heel bone of one foot. It so happened that two sisters were out of the camp, according to custom, nt the tiiue the body was cut up, and this heel was sent out to them. The dog hunted every lodge, and being satisfied that it was not to be found in tho camp, he sought it outside of it, and found the lodge of the two sisters. The younger sis^ttr was pleased to see him, and admired and patted the pretty dog, but the elder sat mumbling the very heel-bone ho was seeking, and was suily and sour, and repelled the dog, although he looked most wistfully up in her face, while she sucked the bone from one side of her mouth to the other. At last she held it in such a manner that it made her cheek stick out, when the dog, by a quick spring, seized the cheek, and tore cheek and bone away and fled. He now completed the skeleton, and placing himself before it, uttered a hollow, low, long-drawn-out-howl, when the bones came compactly toge- ther. He then modulated his howl, when the bones knit together and DOSa-KWADOSII. IM became lonsp. The tliinJ lunvl l.roiii-lit sinews upon »hpm,nnil tlm fourth, fleali. He then turned liis lead npwurds, li)uking into the sky, nnd gnvo a howl, wliii'h caused every om.' n the villu^/ In startle, nnd the ),'round itself totreinhle, lit which tlx: imaiii entered into his hody, nnd he first breiithed nnd then nrosc. '• Hy kow!" I have overslept myself, ho excliiinied, " I will he loo lato for the trial.' "Trial !" said the dog, " I told you never to let ine be separate from your body, you have neglected this. You were defeated, and your frozen liody cut into n thousand pieces, nnd scattered over the village, but my skill has restored you. Now I will de- clare myself to you, and show who and what I am I" He then began to iti-owkk, ur shake himself, and at every shake, ho grew. His body became heavy and massy, his l"gs thick and long, with big clumsy ends, or feet. He still shook himself, and rose and swelled. A long snout grew from his head, nnd two great shining teeth out of his mouth. His skin remained as it was, naked, nnd only a tuft of hair grew on his tail. Ho rose up above the trees. He was enormous. "I should fill the earth," said he, " were I to exert my utmost power, nnd all there is on the earth would not sntisfy me to ent. Neither could it fntten me or do me good. 1 should wnnt more. It were useless, therefore, nnd the gift I have, I will bestow on you. The animals shall henceforth be your food. They were not designed to feed on man, neither shall they hereafter do it, but shall feed him, and he only shall prey on beasts. But you will respect me, and not ent my kind. [The preceding ia a traditionury tulo of Muidosegee, an aged and respected hunter, of Sualt-ste-Muirio, who vvua the ruling chief of tiio band of Chippewas ut those fulls, and the progenitor of the present line of ruling chiefs. It is preserved through the Johnston family, where he was a frequent guest, prior to 1810, and was h«i)py to while uwiiy many of his winter's eveniiigfii hi iwfiui Mii.-h-liw.i-siia-liwoiii; iiiid liia pursuers, and licncu a [irclui'e to \\-.\r.-; umiI coiitciilions anioii^ (ho Millions of tlie world. m 4tt )t. i > » . t.im mfi'fmm 112 MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONG, gress, tearing away her whole body and leaving nothing but the head So they escaped the first day. The next day they resumed their march and could distinctly hear the noise of combat in the sky, as if it were a roaring thunder ; they also heard the voice of their mother behind them, desiring her eldest son to stop and wait for iier, saying that she wished to give the breast to his brother ; then again Musli-kwa-sha-kwong's voice, encouraging his sons to fly for their lives, and saying that if their mother overtook them she would surely kill them. In the evening of the second day the boys prepared to encamp, and the noise of combat on high ceased ; on placing a small piece of the coal on the ground, a log and some fire-wood was let down as on the preceding night, and the fire was kindled, and then the raccoon placed on it for thei.' food. This was fulfilling the promise made by their father, that they would be provided for during their flight. The beaver's tooth was here thrown away, and this is the cause why the northern country now abounds with beaver, and also the innumerable little lakes and marshes, and con- sequently the rugged and tedious travelling now experienced. On the third day the boys resumed their flight, and threw away their hone, and it became a high rocky mountainous ridge, the same now seen on the north shore of these straits, (St. Mary's) which was a great obstacle in the way of the woman of the Head, for this was now her name, be- cause that part alone remained of her whole frame, and with it she was incessantly uttering determinations to kill her eldest son ; the boys finally reached the fishing pi ice known as the eddy of Wah-zah-zhawing, at the rapids of Bawating, siiuated on the north shore of the river. Here Miish- kwa-sha-kwong, told his sons that he had himself been overtaken in his flight by his pursuers and killed, and he appeared to them in the shape of a red headed wood-pecker, or a mama. This is a bird that is seldom or never attacked by birds of prey, for no vestiges of his remains are ever seen or found by the Indian hunter. " Now my sons," said the red headed wood-pecker, "I have brought you to this river, you will now see your grand father and he will convey you across to the opposite side." Then the boys looked to the southern shore of the river, and they saw in the middle of the rapid, an OsirrGtJAY standing on a rock ; to the Oshuggay the boys spoke, and accosted him as their grand father, requesting him to carry them across the river Bawating. The Oshuggay stretching his long neck over the river to the place where the boys stood, told them to get upon his head and neck, and again stretching to the southern shore, he landed the boys in safety, upon a prairie : the crane was seen walking in state, up and d-own the prairie. The persevering mother soon arrived at Wah-zah-hawing, and im- mediately requested the Oshuggay to cross her over, that she was in pur- ir sti it MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONO. 113 suit of her children and stating that she wished to overtake them ; but the Oshuggay seemed well aware of her character, and objected to conveying her across, giving her to understand that she was a lewd and bad wo- man ; he continued giving her a long moral lecture upon the course she had pursued and the bad results to mankind in consequence, such as quarrels, murders, deaths, and hence widowhood. The woman of the Head persisted in her request of being conveyed across. Oljcctions and entreaties followed. She talked as if she were still a woman, whose favour was to be sought; and he, as if he were above such favours. After this dialogue the Oshuggay said that he would convty her across, on the condition that she would adhere strictly to his injimctions ; he told her not to touch the bare piut of his head, but to get upon the hollow or crooked part of his neck ; to this she agreed, and got on. The Oshuggay then withdrew his long neck to about half way across, when feeling that she had forgotten her pledge he dashed her head upon the rocks, and the small fish, that were so abundan,' instantly fed upon the brain and fragments of the skull and became large white fish. "A fish" said the Oshuggay, "that from this time forth shall be abimdant, and remain in these rapids to feed the Indians and their issue, from ge era tion to generation."* After this transaction of the Oshuggay's, landing the boys safely across, and dashing the woman's head upon the rocks, he spake to the Crane and mutually consulting one another in relation to Mcishkwa-sha-kwong's sons they agreed to invite two women from the eastward, of the ti ibe of the W.ts- SI6SIC., and the two lads took them for wives. The Oshuggay plucked one of his largest wing feathers and gave it to the eldest boy, and the Crane likewise did the same, giving his feathers to the youngest ; they were told to consider the feathers as their sons after this, one feather appeared like an Oshuggay and the other like a young Crane. By and by they appeared like human beings to the lads. Thus the alliance was formed with the Was- sissig, and the circumstance of the Oshuggay and Crane interesting them- selves in behalf of the boys and the gift to them of their feathers and the result, is the origin of the Indian Totem. Here Milsh-kwa-sha-kwong's sons were told that they would be con- sideied as chieftains and that this office would be hereditary and continue in their generations. After this, they multiplied e.xceedingly and became strong and powerful. About this time the Obinangoes, (or the Bears' Totem) came down from Shaugah-wah-mickong, near the e.vtreniily of Lake Superior. On their way eastward they were surprised on reaching Bawating to find such a numerous population of human beings : they were if, '■A '! • The small white shells that the white fish live upon, and the wliite substance found iu its gizzard arc to this day considered by the Indians, tlie brain and skull ol' the wumon of tlio Head. 8 M' 114 MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONQ. iH I not aware of its oeing in existence ; fear came upon the Obinangoes, and they devised tiie plan of securing friendship with the Oshuggays and Cranes, by adopting and claiming a relationship with them, and calling them their grandsons. This claim was yielded, and they wore permitted to remain at Bawailing upon the score of relationship thus happily attained. The Obonangocs eventually emigrated eastward and settled upon the northern coast of Lakes Huron and Ontario. Population increased so rapidly at Bawaiting, that it was necessary to form new villages, some settling on the Garden River, some upon the Pakaysaugauegan River, and others upon the island of St. Joseph's, and upon the Menashkong Bay and Mashkotay Saugie River. About this time, a person in the shape of a human being came down from the sky ; his clothing was exceedingly pure and white ; he was seated as it were in a nest, with a very fine cord attached to it, by which this mysterious person was let down, and the cord or string reached heaven. He addressed the Indians in a very humane, mild, and compasionate tone, saying that they were very poor and needy, but telling them that they were perpetually asleep, and this was caused by the Mache Monedo who was in the midst of them, and leading them to death and ruin. This mysterious personage informed thorn also that above, where h-e came from, there was no night, that the inhabitants never slept, that it waa perpetually day and they required no sleep ; that Kezha IVlonedo was their light. He then invited four of the Indians to ascend up with him promis- ing that they would be brought back in safety ; that an opportunity would thereby present itself to view the beauty of the sky, or heavens. But the Indians doubted and feared lest the cord should break, because it appeared to them so small. They did not believe it possible it could bear their weight. With this objection they excused themselves. They were, however again assured that ths cord was sufficiently strong and that Kezha Monedo had the power to make it so. Yet the Indians doubted and feared, and did not accompany the messenger sent down to them. After tliLs re- fusal the my.sterious person produced a small bow and arrows with which he shot at the Indians in difli'rent parts of their bodies: the result was, »he killing of multitwdes of small white worms, which ho show.'d to them ; telling them that they were the M.iclie Monedo which caused tlieiii to sleep, an;4 j)revented their awakening from their rleatli-like state This divine messenger then gave to the Indians laws and rules, where- by they should be guided: first, to love and fear Kezha Monedo, and next that they must love one another, and be charitable and ho.^pjtable : and finally, thiit they must not covet their neighbours property, but ac(|uire it by labour and honest industry. He then instituted the grand medicine or metay we win dance: this ceremony was to be observed annually, and with due solemnity, and the Indians, said Nabirioi, experienced miicli good from it ; but unfortunately, the foolish young men were cheated by Mache I MASH-KWA-SHA.KAVONQ. 116 Moncdo, who caused them to adopt the Wabano dance and its ceremonies. This latter is decidedly an institution of the sagemaus, or evil spirits, and this was finallj' introduced into the inetay we wining, (i. e. medicine dance) and thereby corrupted it. The old chief continued his moral strain thus: While the Indians were instructed by the heavenly messenger they were told that it would snow continually for the space of five years, winter and summer, and the end would then be nigh at hand ; and again that it would rain incessantly as many winters and summers more, wiiich would cause the waters to rise and overflow the earth, destroying trees and all manner of vegetation. After this, ten winters and summers of drought would follow, drying up the land, and mostly the lakes and rivers ; not a cloud would be seen during this period. The earth would become so dry, that it will then burn up with tire of itself, and it will also burn the waters to a certain depth, until it at- tains the first created earth and waters. Then the good Indians will rise from death to enjoy a new earth, filled with an abundance of all manner of living creatures. The only animal which will not be seen is the beaver 'J'he b;id Indians will not enjoy any portion of the new earth ; they will be condemned and given to the evil spirits. Four generations, he went on to say, have now passed away, since that brotherly love and charity, formerly known, still existed among the In- dians. There was in those ancient times an annual meeting among the In- dians, resembling the French New Year's Day, which was generally ob- served on the new moon's first appearance, Gitchy Monedo gesus. The Indians of our village would visit these of another, and sometimes meet one another dancing; and on those occasions they would exchange bows and arrows, their rude axes, .awls, and kettles, and their clothing. This was an annual festival, which was duly observed by them. In those days the Indians lived happy; but every thing is now changed to the In- dian mind, indicating the drawing near and approach of the end of time. The Indians who still adhere to the laws of the heavenly messenger ex- perience happiness ; and, on the contrary, concluded the old man, those who arc wicked and adhere to the Wabano institution, generally meet with lh<>ir reward; and it is singular to say that they generally come to their end by accidents, such as drowning, or miserable deaths. He then reverted to the former part of his story. The Osliuggays, and the Cranes quarrelled, and this quarrel commenced on a trivial point. It appears that the Cranes look a pole, without leave, from the t Jshuggays, and they broke the pole ; this circumstance led to a separation. The Oshuggays eraii^rated south, and are now known as the Shawnees. WA-WA-BEZO-WIN, Oft THE SWING ON THE LAKE SHORE. rROM THE TRADITIONS OP THE ODJIBWAB. There was an old ha]^ of a woman living with her daughter-in-law ond son, and a little orphan boy, whom she was bringing up. When her son-in-law came home fioin hunting, it was his custom to bring his wife the moose's lip, the kidney of the bear, or some other choice bits of different animals. These she would cook crisp, so as to make a sound with her teeth in eating them. This kind attention of the hunter to his wife, at last, excited the envy of the old woman. She wished to have the same luxuries, and in order to get them she finally resolved to make way with her son's wife. One day, she asked her to leave her in- fant son to the care of the orphan boy, and come out and swing with her. She took her to the shore of a lake, where there was a high range of rocks overhanging the water. Upon the top of this rock, she erected a swing. She then undressed, and fastened a piece of leather around her body, and commenced swinging, going over the precipice at every swing. She continued it but a short time, when she told her daughter to do the same. The daughter obeyed. She undressed, and tying the leather string as she was directed, began swinging. When the swing had got in full motion and well a going, so that it went clear beyond the precipice, at every sweep, the old woman slyly cut the cords and let her daughter drop into the lake. She then put on her daughter's clothing, and thus dis- guised went home in the dusk of the evening and counterfeited her ap- pearance and duties. She found the child crying, and gave it the breast, but it would not draw. The orphan boy asked her where its mother was. She answered, " She is still swinging." He said, "I shall go and look for her." " No !" said she, " you muist not — what shoukl you go for ?'' Wiu'n the husband came in, in the evening, he gave the coveted morsel to his supposed wife. He missed his mother-in law, but said nothing. She eagi'vly ate the dainty, and tried to keep the child still. The hus- band looked rather astonished to see his wife studiously averting hrr "i."^, and asked her why the child cried so. She said, she did not know — ihat ^t would not draw. In the meantime the orphan boy went to the lake shores, and found no one. He mentioned his suspicion?, and while the old woman w.'is out getting wood, he told him all that he had heard or seen. The tnnn then 116 WA-WA-BE-ZO-WIN, 117 painted his face black, and placed his spear upside down in the earth and requested the Great Spirit to send lightning, thunder, and rain, in the hope that the body of his wife might arise from the water. He then began to fast, and told the boy to take the child and play on the lake shore. We must now go back to the swing. After the wife had plunged into .he lakf, she found herself taken hold of by a water tiger, whose tail twisted itself round her body, and drew her to the bottom. There she found a fine lodge, and all things ready for her reception, and she became ;he wife of the water tiger. Whilst the children were playing along the shore, and the boy was casting pebbles into the lake, he saw a gull com- ing from its centre, and flying towards the shore, and when on shore, the bird immediately assumed the hiunan shape. When he looked again he recognized the lost mother. She had a leather belt around her loins, and another belt of white metal, which was, in reality, the tail of the water tiger, her husband. She suckled the babe, and said to the boy — " Come here with him, whenever he cries, and I will nurse him." The boy carried the child home, and told these things to the father. When the child again cried, the father went also with the boy to the lake shore, and hid himself in a clump of trees. Soon the appearance of a gull was seen, with u long shining belt, or chain, and as soon as it came to the shore, h assumed the mother's shape, and began to suckle the child. The husband had brought along his spear, and seeing the shining chain, he boldly struck it and broke the links apart. He then took his wife and child home, with the orphan boy. When they entered the lodge, the old woman looked up, but it was a look of despair, she instantly dropped her head. A rustling was heard in the lodge, and the next mo- ment, she leaped up, and flew out of the lodge, and was never heard of more. The name of God, among the ancient Mexicans, was Teo, a word sel dom found, except in compound phrases. Among the Mohawks and Otiondagas, it is Nco. Wuh the western Senecas, as given by Smith, Owaynco. With the Odjibwas, Monedo ; with the Ottowas, Maneto. Many modifications of the word by prefixes, to its radix Edo, appear among the cognate dialects It is remarkable that there is so striking a similarity in the principal syllable, and it is curious to observe that Edo, is. in sound, both the Greek term Deo, and the A/.tcek Teo, transposed. Is there any thing absolutely /.wrf in the sounds of languages? ■■,;t '.I J TAKOZID, .i: OR THE SIIORT-FOOT. h BIOORAPIIICAI, BKETCII. Most of the individuals wlio have figured amongst the Red Race in America, have appeared under circumstances wliicii have prechidcd any tiling like a full and consistent biography. There is, in truth, but little in savage life, to furnish materials for such biographies. The very scanti- ness of events determines this. A man suddenly appears among these tribes as a warrior, a negociator, an orator, or a prophet, by a name that nobody ever before heard -of He excites attention for a short time, and then sinks back into the mass of Indian society, and is no more heard of His courage, his eloquertce, or his diplomatic skill, arc regarded as evi- dences of talent, and energy of thought or action, which, under better au- spices, might have produced a shining and consistent character. But he has been left by events, and is sunk in the mass. He appeared rather like an erratic body, or flash, than a fi.xed light amid his people. The circum stances that brought him into notice have passed away. A victory has been won, a speech made, a noble example given. The aflliir has been adjusted, the tribe resumed its hunting, or corn-planting, or wandering, or internal discords, and the new name, which promised for a while to raise a Tamerlane, or Tippoo Saib in the west, settles down in the popular mind ; and if it be not wholly lost, is only heard of now and then, as one of the signatures to some land treaty. There is not, in fact, sufficient, in the population, military strength, or imporSmce of the affairs of most of our tribes, to work out incidents for a sustained and full biograjihy. Even the most considerable personages of past times, who have been honoured with such full notices, have too much resemblance to a stout boy in his father's regimentals. They hang loosely about him. The most that can be done — all indeed which the occasion requires in general — is a sketch of such particular events, in aboriginal history, as the individual has connected his name with. It is proposed in the progress of this work, to furnish some of such sketches from the unwritten annals of the west and the north. Among that class of aboriginal chiefs and actors, who have not risen to the highest distinction, or attained general notoriety out of the circle of their own tribes, was Takozid, or tlie Short-Foot ; a Mukundwa, or pil- lager; a fierce, warlike, and predatory tribe of the Odjibwa Algonquin 118 TAKOZID, OR THE SIIORT-FOOT. 119 stock, who, at nn oarly time scatetl themselves on the sources of the Mis- sissippi, making their liead quarters nt Leech Lake. To this place, their traditions assert, tiiey came from Ciiagoitnegon, or still further east, prior to tile disi'overy of the coiinlry by Europeans. They were consequently intruders in, or conquerors of the country, and drove back some other people. It seems equally prol)ablc that this people were the Dacotahs, tho Naddowassies, or as it is abbreviated, Siou.K, of early French writers. Tho Siou.K are a numerous and warlike stock, who occupy portions of the banks of the Missouri and the Mississippi, at, and about the latitude of St. Anthony's Falls. A hereditary war of which "the memory of man runneth not to the contrary," was the consequence of this ancient inroad. Of all this region of country we can speak from personal knowledge, having tra- versed it at sundry limes, and in various directions. It is in local remi- niscence, little more than a widely extended scene of Indian battles, ambus- cades and murders. There is hardly a prominent stream, plain or forest, which is not referred to, as the traveller proceeds, as the particular locality of some fight, tragedy, or hair-breath escape among tho Red Men. The Olympic games were not a surer test of fame in successful rivalry, than is this wide area of aboriginal warfare, for the opposing nations of the Sioux and Chippewas. War is the prime avenue to distinction to the Indian mind. As soon as a hunter has acquired any distinction, and begins to look upon himself as a person of courage and address, he turns his efforts to the war path. Whatever else he is famous for, this is the crowning test and seal of his reputation. And none have pursued it with more in- cessant devotion than the Chippewas. Takozid determined from his earliest youth to take a part in the strife for barbaric glory. He early joined the war' parties going into the great plains. He learned their arts, repeated their songs, and became expert in all the warrior's arts. He established the reputation of a brave young man. The next step was to lead a war party himself He courted popu- larity by generosity, self denial, and attention to their religious rites and ceremonies. These things may be done on a smaller scale, as efTectually among a band of savages, as in the hall or forum. He succeeded. He raised a war party, conducted it into the plains, discovered his enemies, approached them .siily, tell upon them, defeated them, and returned in tri- umph with their scalps to his \illnge. His deep and hollow cue kwan nri\i, or death-cry of victory as ho came to the eminence which overlooked his village, announced all this before he set foot in his village: and the number of his scalps. These exploits placed him on the pinnacle of fame. It is a curious fact, m the lives of our Red men, to observe that war Is a stimulus to poligamy. One of the first things he thought of, as a proper reward for his bravery, was to take another wife. In this, his friends and partisans concurred, although he had no cause of dissatisfaction with his first wife, to whom he ( 120 TAKOZID, OR THE SHORT-FOOT. I-'I i ' had been married but a short time, and who had borne him a son. Time added confirmation to tliis plan. It was talited of, and even debated by the chiefs. It was conceded to be due to his bravery. Ail, indeed, appeared to approve of it, but his wife. She heard of the rumor with alarm, and received the account of its confirmation, with pain. It could no Ioniser be doubted, for the indiviilu.il who was to share, nay, control the lodge with her was named, and the consent of her parents had been obtained. Monon, or the Liltle-Iron-Wuod-Treo, as she was called, was a female of no ordinary firmness of cliuracter. She was ardently attached to her husband, not the less so for his rising fame, jealous of her rights, and prompted by strong feelings to maintain them. In all these points she was above the generality of her country women. Like others, however, in a community where poligamy was common, she might have submitted at length, to her fate, had not her rival in the affl'Ctions of Takozid, ap- pealed to a deeper seated principle, and waked up, in the; breast of the in- jured wife, the feeling of revenge: a prmciple reckluss enough, in com- munities where there are the safeguards of education and Christianity to restrain and regulate it ; but horrible in wild and roving bands of bar- barians. Monon's fidelity was slandered. She was a pure and high minded woman, and the imputation goaded her to the quick. When this slander first reached her ears, through the ordinary chan- nel of village gossip, a chord was struck, which vibratci ihrough every throe, and steeled her heart for some extraordinary act ; although none could anticipate the sanguinary deed which marked the nuptial night. An Indian marriage is often a msxtter of little ceremony. It was not so, on this occasion. To render the events imposing, many had been invited. The bride was dressed in her best apparel. Her father was present. Man)' young and old, males and females were either present or thronged around the lodge. The broad clear blue waters of the lake, studded with green islands, spread before the door. A wide grassy lawn, which was the village ball and play ground, extended down to its margin. It was a public event A throng had gathered around. Takozid was to be mariied. He was to take a second wife, in the daughter of Obegwud. Takozid himself was there. Hilarity reigned within and without. All indeed, were there, but the dejected and deserted Monon, who had been left with her child, at the chieftain's own lodge. But a spirit had been aroused in her breast, which would not permit her to remain absent. She crossed the green silently, stealthily. She stood gazing awhile at the lake. She approached the bridal lodge. She passed easily among the group. She entered the lodge. Nor had any one, at that moment, a thought of suspicion or alarm. The bride was seated on her envied abhinos ; her affianced husband was at her side. All at once, there arose a shrill cry, in the Chippewa tongue. " Tkis, vociferated the enraged Monon, This for the bastard!" and at each repeti Iti he I m TAKOZID, OR THE SIIORT-FOOT. Itl lion of the words, she raised nn Indinn poignard, in her hand. The Bud- denness of licr nioveinoiit liad paralyzid every aitoinpt to nrrfst her. Amazement sat in every face. She had plunged a pointed knile into the Dreast of her rival. There is little to be addtnl to such a catastrophe. Its very suddeimcss and atrocity appalled every one. Nobody arrtsted her, and nobody pur- sued her. She returned as sh(! came, and re-cnteied her loilge. Her victitn never spoke. From tills moment the fiinc of TuUozid declined. 'I'he event appeared to have nnnianned him. Me went no more to war. llis martial spirits appeared to have left him. He siuik hack into the mass of Indian society, and was scarcely ever mentioned. Nor should we, iiidced, have recalled his name from its obscurity, were it not associated in the Indian reminis- cences of Leach lake, with this sanguinary deed. 1 had this relation a few years ago, from a trader, who had lived at Leech lake, who personally knew the parties, and whose veracity I had no reason at all, to call into question. It is one of the elements that go into the sum of my personal observations, on savage life, and as such 1 cast it among these paj)ers. To judge of the Red race aright, we nmst view it, in ail its phases, and if we would perform our duty towards them, as christians and men, we should gather our data from small, as well as great events, and from afar as well as near. When all has been done, in the way of such collections and researches, it will be found, we think, that their errors and crimes, whatever they are, assume no deeper dye than philanthropy has had reason to apprehend them to take, without a knowledge of the principles of the gospel. T/ioii shalt not kill, is a law, yet to be enforced, among more than two hundred thousand souls, who bear the impress of a red skin, within the acknowledged limits of the American Union. MACIIIMTO, THE EVIL SPIRIT; :h:i FnO.M THE I,F.(iK.NI)8 OK l.\GOU. BY MRS. E. OAKES .SMITH. "The Papraii world not only bflievcs in a inyriiul of {rods, bat worsliijiK them also It is the pecniiarity of liif \orili .Anirrican Indi.m, fliat while lie hiliercs in as many, he worships but one, the Creuf Spirit." — {SchontcraJ't.) CiiEMANiTou, being the master of life, at one time became the origin of a spirit, that has ever since caused himself -tfi' -H A«l.nrc «f l,is creniion m- 1S9 INDIAN MyTIIOLOOY. a great deal ofdisqiiiut. His birtli was mviiig to an acculont It wns in this wise. Mr;r6\VAr, or oa iho whitn people now call it, Ijoni,' Isl.iml, was origi ntillyu vast plain, so Imel luid fioo fioin any kind nt growth, tliat it looked like a portion of the jy^reat sc.i that had suddenly been mudo to move back and let the sand helow appear, wliieh was the case in f.ict. Here it wns that Chetnanilou used to come and sit, when hi; wished to bring any new creation to the life. Tiie place bt.'ing spacious and solitary, the water upon every side, he iiad not only room enough, but wns free from interruption. It is well known tliat some of these early creations were of very great size, so that very few could live in the same place, nnd their strength made it difficult for Chemanitou, even to coritroul thcin ; for when he has given them certain elements, they have the use of the laws that govern these ele- ments, till it is iiis will to take them back to himself Accordingly, it was the custom of Chemanitou, when he wished to try the eflect of these crea- tures, to set them in motion upon the island of Metowac, and if they did not please him, he took the life out before they were sutlered to escape. He would set up a mammoth or other large animal, in the centre of tho island, and build him up with great care, somewhat in the manner that a cabin or a canoe is made. Even to this day may be found traces of what had been done here in former years; nnd the manner in which the earth sometimes sinks down [even wells fall out at the bottom here,] shows that this island is nothing more than a great cake of earth, a sort of platter laid upon the sea, for the convenience of Chemanitou, who used it as a tal)le upon which he might work, never having designed it for anything else ; the margin of the Chatiemac, (the stately swan,) or Hudson river, being better adapted to the purposes of habitation. When the master of life wished to buihl up an elephant or mamnioth he placed four cakes of clay upon tho groimd, at proper distai);,es, which were moulded into shape, and became the feet of the animal. Now sometimes these were left unfinished ; and to this day the green tussocks, to be seen like little islands about the marshes, show when; these cakes of clay had been placed. As Chemanitou went on with his work, the Ni:r,nANAwn.\ios (or water spirits.) the PrcK-wrn-.iiN.Nncs, (Fairies *) and indeed all the lesser manit- toes, used to come and look on, and wonder what it wouLl be, ,111 1 how it would act. When the animal was quite done, and had dried a long time in the sun, Chemanitou opened a place in the side, and entering in, rerniined there many days. • Literally, little men, who vanish. INDIAN MYTIIoi.OfJY. 123 Whnn he rnnn' forth, tlio crcutiirc firyan to shivrr nnd sway from siJii 10 sidt', in siicli ii tnahiii'r a.s jiliunk the wliol*! irtlaiid I'nr many It'iigues. If hi lis ap|H'ar;iiu:t! plcaM'd tlic master of lili; litswa.s snllind to d(|mil, uiul it wns geiiurally found th.i thidu atiinialM pliinirrd into thu sen iijion tho north sid»' of thi' inland, :iikI disappcart'd in ifh- j^nat forrstf hcyond. Now at one liuHJ (Jhi'manitoii was a very lonif whilu Imildin;,' an nni- mul, of such irruat hulk, that it Kxiktsl liki; a nmuntain upon the cen- tre of tlie island ; and all the munittoes, from all parts, cnme to .see what it was. Tlie Puck wud-jinnies especially made themselves very merry, capering' hehind his j^reat oars, sittintf within his mouth, each perched upon a tooth, and running; in and out of tlie sockets of the eyes, think- ing Chemanitou, wiio was linishingoirother parts of the animal, could not 8CC them. Hut he can see right through every thing' he has made, fie was glad to see them so lively, and bethought himself of many new creations while he watched their motions. When the Master of Life had completed this largo animal, he was fear- ful to give it life, nnd so it was left upon the island, or work-table of Che- manitou, till its great weight caused it to break through, and sinking partly down it stuck fast, the head and tail holding it in such a manner as to prevent it from going down. Chemanitou then lifted up a piece of the back, nnd found it made a very good cavity, into which tho old creations, which failed to please him, might be thrown. He sometimes amused himself by making creatures very small and ac- tive, with which he disported awhile, and finding them of very little use in tile world, nnd not so attractive as the little Vanishers, he would take out the life, holding it in himself, and then oast them into the cave made by the body of the unfinished animal. In this way great quantities of very odd shapes were heaped together in this Rmiromromon, or " iMace of Fragments." He was always careful to first take out the life. One day the Master of Life took two pieces of clay and moulded them into two large feet, like those of a panther. He did not make four — there were two only. He stepped his own feet into them, and found the tread \ery light and springy, so that he might go with great speed, and yet make no noise. Next he built up a pair of very tall legs, in the shape of his own, and made them walk about awhile — he was pleased with the motion. Then followed a round body, covered with large scales, like the alligator. He now found the figure doubling forward, and he fastened a long black snake, that was gliding by, to the back part of the body, and let "it wind itself about a sapling near, which held the body upright, and made a very good tail. 124 INDIAN MYTHOLOGY. The shoulders were broad and strong, like those of the buflaloe, and covered with iiair — tlie neck thick and short, and full at the back. Thus far Ciiemaiiitou had worked with little thought, but when lie came to the head he thought a long while. He took a round ball of clay into his lap, and worked it over with great care. While he thought, he patted the ball upon the top, which made it very broad and low; for Chemanitou was thinking of the panther feet, and the buflaloe neck. He remembered the Puck-wud-jinnies playing in the eye sockets of the great unfinished animal, and he bethought him to set the eyes out, like those of a lobster, so that the animal might see upon every side. He made the forehead broad and full, but low ; for here was to be the wisdom of the forked tongue, like that of the serpent, which should be in his mouth. He should see all things, and know all things. Here Che- manitou stopped, for he saw that he had never thought of such a creation before, one with but two feet, a creature who should stand upright, and see upon every side. The jaws were very strong, with ivory teeth, and gills upon either side, which arose and fell whenever breath passed through them. The nose was like the beak of the vulture. A tuft of porcupine quills made the scalp-lock. Chemanitou held the head out the length of his arm, and turned it first upon one side and then upon the other. He passed it rapidly through the air, and saw the gills rise and fall, the lobster eyes whirl round, and the vulture nose look keen. Chemanitou became very sau ; yet he put the head upon the shoulders. It was the first time he had made un upright figure. It seemed to be the first idea of a man. It was now nearly night ; the bats were flying through the air, and the roar of wild beasts began to be heard. A gusty wind swept in from the ocean, and passed over the island of Metowac, castmg the light sand to and fro. A heavy scud was skimming along the horizon, while higher up in the sky was a dark thick cloud, upon the verge of which the moon hung for a moment, and then was shut in. A panther came by and stayed a moment, with one foot raised and bent inward, while he looked up at the image, and smelt the feet, that were like his own. A vulture swooped down wiili a great noise of its wings, and made a dash at the beak, but Chemiinitou held him back. Then came the porcupine, and the lizard, and the snake, each drawn by its kind in the image. Chemanitou veiled his face for many hours, and the gusty wind swept by, but he did not stir. He saw that every beast of the earth seeketh its kind ; and that which, is like draweth its likeness unto himself life ha- INDIAN MVTHOLOr.Y. 12b The Mastfirof Life thought and thought. The idea grew into his mind that nt some ii.nc he would cipiite a creature who should be made not aftor the things of the earth, but after liiniself. He should link this world to the spirit world, — being made in the like- ness of the Cireiii Spirit, he siiould be drawn unto his likeness. Many days ami nights, whole seasons, passed while Chemanitou inought uj)on these things, lie saw all things. Then the Master of Life lifted up liis head ; the stars were looking down upon the image, and a bat had alighted upon the forehead, spreading its great wings upon each side. Chemanitou took the bat and luld out its wiiole leathery wings, (and ever since the bat, when he rests, kts his body hang down.) so that he could try them over the head of the image. He then took the life of the bat away, and twisted ofT the botly, by which means the whole thin part fell down over tiie head, and upon each side, making the ears, and a covering for the forehead like that of the liooded serpent. Chemanitou did not cut off the face of the image below, he went on and made a chin, and lips that were firm and round, that they might shut in the forked tongue, and the ivory teeth ; and he knew that with the lips and the chin it would smile, when life should be given to it. The image was now all done but the arms, and Chemanitou saw that with a chin it must have hands. He grew more grave. He had never given hands to any creature. He made the arms and the hands very beautiful, after the manner of his own. Chemanitou now took no pleasure in his work that was done — it was not good in his sight. He wished he had not given it hands ; might it not, when trusted with life, might it not begin to create? might it not thwart the plans of the master of life himself I He looked long at the image. He saw what it would do when life should be given it. He knew all things. He now put fire in the image : but fire is not life. He put fire within, and a red glow passed through and through it. The firo dried the clay of which it was made, and gave the image an ex- ceedingly fierce aspect. It shone through the scales upon the breast, and the gills, and the bat-winged ears. The lobster eyes were like a living coal. Chemanitou opened the side of the image, but lie did not cider. He had given it hands and a chin. It could smile like the manittoes themselves. He made it walk all about the island of Metowac, that he might seo how it would act. This he did by means of his will. He now put a little life into it, but he did not take out the fire. Che- manitou saw the aspect of the creature would be very terrible, and yet that 126 INDIAN MYTHOLOGY. I he could smile jn such a manner that ho ceased to be ugly. He thought much u])oii these things. He felt it would not be best to let such a creature live; a creature made up mostly from the beasts of the field, but with hands of power, a chin lifting the head upward, and lips holding all things within themselves. While he thought upon these things, he took '.he image in his hands and cast it into the cave. Bui Ckemanhou forgot to take out the life ! The creature lay a long time in the cave and did not stir, for his fall- was very great. He lay amongst the old creations that had been thrown in there without life. Now when a long time had passed Chemanitou heard a great noise in the cave. He looked in and saw the image sittin.g there, and he was try- ing to put together the old broken things that had been cast in as of no value. Chemanitou gathered together a vast heap of stones and sand, for large rocks are not to be had upon the island, and stopped the mouth of the cave. Many days passsed and the noise grew louder within the cave. The earth shook, and hot smoke came from the ground. The Manittoes crowded to Metowac to see what was the matter. Chemanitou came also, for he remembered the image he had cast in there, and forgotten to take away the life. Suddenly there was a great rising of the stones and sand — the sky grew black with wind and dust. Fire played about the ground, and water gushed high into the air. All the Manittoes fled with fear ; and the image came forth with a great noise and most terrible to beliold. His life had grown strong within him, for the fire had made it very fierce. Everything fled before him and cried — Maciunito— Machinito — which means a god, but an evil god I The above legend is gathered from the traditions of lagou, the great Indian narrator, who seems to have dipped deeper into philosophy than mo3t of his compeers. The aboriginal language abounds with stories re- lated by this remarkable personage, which we hope to bring before tho public at some future time. Whether subsequent events justify the Indian in making Long Island the arena of the production of Machinito or tho Evil Spirit, will seem more than apocryphal to a white resident. How- ever we have nothing to do e.xccpt to relate the fact as it was related. As to these primitive metaphysics, they arc at least curious ; and the cool- ness with which the fact is assumed that the origin of evil was accidental in the process of developing a perfect humanity, would, at an earlier day, have been quite appallmg to tin; icliuohuen. E. O. S. 1:1 • EEPOSE OF THE SOUI. When an Indian corpse is put in a coffin, among the tribes of the Lake* ^.Igonquins, the lid is tied down, and not nailed. On depositing it in the grave, the rope or string is loosed, and the weight of the earth alone relied on, to keep it in a fixed position. The reason they give for this, is, that the soul may have free egress from the body. Over the top of the grave a covering of cedar bark is put, to shed the rain. This is roof-shaped and the whole structure looks, slightly, like a house in miniature. It has gable ends. Through one of these, being the head, an aperture is cut. On asking a Chippewa why this was done, he replied, — " To allow the soul to pass out, and in." "I thought," I replied, "that you believed that the soul went up from the body at the time of death, to a land of happiness. How, then, can it remain in the body?" " There are two souls," replied the Indian philosopher. " How can this be? my friend." "It is easily explained," said he. " You know that, in dreams, we pass over wide countries, and see hills and lakes and mountains, and many scenes, which pass before our eyes, and afTect us. Yet. at the same time, our bodies do not stir, and there 13 a soul left with the body. — else it would be dead. So, j'ou perceive, it must be another soul that accoinpanies us." This conversation took place, in the Indian country. I knew the In- dian very well, and had noticed the practice, not general now, on the fron- tiers, of fj/ini^'- the cofTm-lid. in burials. It is at the orifice in the bark sheeting mentioned, that the portion of food, consecrated in feasts for the dead, is set. It could not but happen, that the food should be eaten by the hystri.K, wolf, or some other animal, known to prowl at night; nor that, Indian superstition, ever ready to t\irn slight appearances of this kind to iccount, should attribute its abstraction to the spirit of the deceased. THE LITTLE SPIRIT, OR BOY-MAN. AN ODJIBWA FAIRY TALE. WKITTEN OUT FUOJl THE VEKBAL NARRATIVE BY THE LATE MRS. H. R. SCHOOLCRAFT. There was once a little boy, remarkable for the smallness of hi.s stature. He was living alone wiih his sister older than himself. Thoy were orphans, thfiy lived in a beautiful spot on the Lake shore ; iiuny large rocks were 127 128 THE LITTLE SPIRIT, OR BOY-MAN. ll 1 jli scattered aiound their habitation. The boy never gjew larger as he advanced in years. One day, in winter, he asln the young girl returned with her host, and again en- camped at tlic head of lake Simcoc, at her former encamping place; and the two tyrants were asked, what was their object for making chingodam, and what weight could it have? They said, in answer, that their imple- ments for war, were war a.ves, and if permitted they would make chingodam, and on doing so they kdled each two men. They were bound immediately, and their flesh was cut of]' from their bodies in slices. One of Item was dissected, and upon examination it was discovered tliat he had no liver, and his heart was small, and composed of hard flint stone. There are marks upon a perpendicular ledge of rocks at the narrows, or head of lake Simcoe, visible to this day, representing two bou'.id persons, who are re- cognized by the Indians of this generation as the two tyrants, or twin broihers, Aingodon and Nawadaha. One of the tyrants was kept hound, until the time the French discovered and possessed the Canadas. .and he was taken to Quebec. After this the young girl was taken away by the god of light. GEO. JOHNSTON. Sault Sle. Marie, May \2th, 1838. The Indian warriors of the plains west of the sources of the Mississippi, chew a bitter root, before going into battle, which they suppose imparts courage, and renders them insensible to pain. It is called zhigowak. It :1 1 , i. i i ::=»• A SKETCHES OF THE LIVES OF NOTED JIED MEN AND WOMEN WHO HAVE APPEARED ON THE WESTERN CONTINEiNT. iri! rVABOJEEG, OR THE WHITE FISHER. This individual has imlclibly interwoven his name with the history of the Chippewa nation, during the latter half of tlie 18th centuijy. His nn- cestors had, from the earliest times, held the principal chieftainsliip in lake Superior. His father, Ma-mongaziJa, was the ruling chief during the war of the conquest of the Canadas by the British crown. In common with his tribe and the northern nations generally, he was the fast friend of the French government, and was present with his warriors, under Gen. Montcalm, at the loss of Quebec, in 1759. He carried u short speech from that celebrated officer to his people in the north, which is said to have been verbally delivered a short time before he went to the field. The period of the fall of the French power in the Canadas, is one of the most marked events in Indian reminiscence througliout all northwest America. They lefer to the days of French supremacy as a kind of golden era, when all things in their afl^iirs were better than they now are; and I have heard them lament over the change as one which was in every respect detrimental to their power and happiness. No I'^uropean nation, it is evident from these allusions, ever pleased them as well. The French character and manners adapted themselves admirably to the exist- ing customs of forest life. The common people, who went np into the in- terior to trade, fell in with their customs with a degree of plasticity and an air of gaiety and full assent, which no other foreigners have, nt least to the same extent, shown. 7'hese Couriers du Bois had not much to boast of on the score of rigid morale themselves. They had nearly as much su- perstition as the wildest Indians. They were in fact, at least nine-tenths of them, quite as illiterate. Very many of them were far inferior in their mental structure and capacity to the bold, eloquent, and well formed and athletic northern chiefs and hunters. They respected their religious and festive ceremonies. They never, as a chief once told rne, latighcd at them. They met their old friends on their annual returns from Montreal, with a kiss. They took the daughters of the red men for wives, and reared large families, who thus constituted a strong lond of union between the two races, which remains unbroken at this day. 134 WABOJEEQ, OR THE WHITE FISIICR. This is the true )f the efTor ladc by lii 135 and I strenuous ( western Indians to sustain the French power, when it was menaced in Iho war of 1''44, by the lieets and armies of Great Urituin. Tiicy ralhed freely to their aid at Detroit, Vincennes, the present sites of Pittsburjj and Eri*', at Fort Niagara, Montreal, and Quebec, and they hovered with in- furiated zeal around the outskirts of the northern and western settlements, diirinjj the many and sanguinary wars carried on between the English and French. And when the French were beaten they still adhered to their cause, and their chiefs stimulated the French local commanders to continue and renew the contest, even after the fall of Niagara and Quebec, wuh a heroic consistency of purpose, which reflects credit upon their fore- sight, bravery, and constancy. We hope in a future number to bring for- ward a sketch of the man who put himself at the head of this latter eflbit, who declared he would drive the Saxon race into the sea, who beseiged Iwdve and took 7iine of the western stockaded forts, and who for four years and upwards, maintained the war, after the French had struck their colours and ceded the country. We refer to the great Algic leader, Pontiac. At present our attention is called to a cotemporary chief, of equal per- sonal bravery and conduct, certainly, but who lived and exercised his au- thority at a more remote point, and had not the same masses and means at his command. Tl.is point, so long hid in the great forests of the north, and which, indeed, has been but lately revealed in our positive geography, is the ARiCA OF Lake Supeuior. It is here that we find the Indian tradition to be rife with the name of Wabojeeg and his wars, and his cotemporaries. It was one of the direct consequences of so remote a position, that it with- drew his attention more from the actual conflicts between the French and English, and Gxed them upon his western and southern frontie|s, which were menaced and invaded by the numerous bands of the Dacotahs, and by the perfidious kinsmen of his nation, the Outagamies and Saucs. Ho came into active life, too, as a prominent war leader, at the precise era when the Canadas had fallen into the British power, and by engaging zealously in the defence of the borders of his nation west, he allowed time to mitigate and adjust those feelings and attachments which, so far as pub- lic policy was concerned, must be considered to have moulded the Indian mind to a compliance with, and a submission to, the British authority. W^abojeeg was, emphatically, the defender of the Chippewa domain against the efforts of other branches of the Red Race. He did not, therefore, lead his people to fight, as his fathei, Ma-mongazida, and nearly all the great Indian war captains had, to enable one type of tlie foreign race to triumph over another, but raised his parties and led thorn forth to maintain his tribal supremacy. He may be contemplated, therefore, as having had a more patriotic object for his achievement. Lake Superior, at the time of our earliest acquaintance with the region, was occupied, as it is at this day, by the Chippewa race. The chief seat J. 136 YfABOihl.a, OR TUK WIIlTi; FISIIKR. of their power appeared to lie near llie sdiiilnvesterii extreinity of the lake, at Chagoiiiiegori, where i.illieis .MunjiitUc ami Allot'/ I'uuiitl llieir wuy, and eslablislu'il a mission, so e.uly as \i)i)H. Aiioliier of ilicir principal, and probably tnorc aiu w.il seats, was at the great rapida on tiie ouilut of that lake, wliich they named the Sanit de Ste. Maiie. It was in allusion to their residence here that they called this tribe Saulteur, that is to say people ol'the leap or lapid. Indian tradition makes the Chippcwus one of the cliietj certainly by fa* the most nu.nircus and iviilili/ sjjridil, of the AlgoiKjnin stoclc proper, h represents them to have migrated from the east to tlie west. On leachinij the vicinity of iMichiliinaeliinac, they separated ut a comparatively mo- derate era into three tribes, calling themselves, respectively, :iiiiu yrncnil )iiyiii and spfali llie eamij giMieral laiif^iiagu, tluj i'liiurdi(ll;rfiico in soniul Uing that tlie t'oxis use thi' litti'i- 1, wlicic; tliij Diijiliwas t'ni|)h)y an n. TIn' particular caiisnj of tln'ir di.sa^fixriiiciit is mil iiiunvn. 'I'ln^y arc s'tui liy tlio (Jlii|)|ii'\vas tu liavd lici'ii iMil.titliliil ami triMclirrous. Inilividuai i|iiarri'ls and tn »paitMt.s on tlirir iiiintin;,' groumls lt;d to niiirdi'ts, and in tlic I'nd t» a war, in u liicli the .\h'noniuiR'i'S and tiiu FriMicli united, ami tliey were llins diiven iVoia tile rici.' laiki.s and away from tlic I''ox and u|)pt'r WiMVjn.siii. 'I'o main- tain tiieir nusitiun tliey Imnied an alliance witli tlie Sioux, •"..}. .'ought by their side. It was in this contest that Wabojeo"; first dis'ingiiished liini&elf, and vin- dicated by his bmvery and address the former repMation of his family, and laid anew the foundations of his norllieni chieflaindom, i hiving heard allusions made to this person on my first entrance into tiiat region, many years ago, I made particular eiapiiriis, and found living a sister, un old while-headed womai ami a son and dauglitir, about ihe age of middle life. Fioni llie.se sources I gleaned the following facts. He was horn, us nearly as I could com])Ute the time, about 17 17. By a singular and romantic incident his fiitlur, INIa-mongazida, was a hall-brolher of the lather of Walmshaw. a celebrated Siou.v chief, who but a few yeors ago died at his village on the upjior Mississippi. The connexion happened in this way. While the Sioux and Chippcwas were living in amity nt'ur each other, and frequently met and feasted each other on llieir hunting grounds and at their villages, a Sioux cjiief, of distinction, admired and married a Chip- pewa girl, by whom he had two sons. When the war between these two nations broke out, those persons of llic hostile tribes who had married Chippewa wives, and were living in the Chippewa country, withdrew, some taking their wives along and others separating from them. Among the latter was the Sioux chief He remained a short time alter hos-tilities commenced, but finding his position deirianded it, he was compelled, with great relucl;ince, to lea\e his wife behinti, as she could not, wit'i safety, have accompanied him into the Sioux territories. As the- blood of the Sioux flowed in the veins of her two sons, neither was it safe for her to leave them among the Cliippewas. 'i'hey were, however, by mutual agreement, allowed to return with the father. The eldest of these sons became the father of Wabasbaw. The mother thus divorced by the mutual consent of idl parties, re- mained inconsolable for home lime. She was still yoiiiiu' and hamlsome, and after a few yi't's, bi came the wife of a young (Jhippewa chief of Chicroimeiron, of the lioiiuiued totem of i!ie A hoick or reindeer. Her 138 WABOJEEO, OR THE WHITE FISHER. first child by this second marriage, was Ma Mongazida, the fathei of Wabojeeg. In this manner, a connexion existed between two families, of separate hostile nations, each of which distinguished itself, for bravery and skill in war and council. It has already been stated that Ma Monga zida, was present, on the side of the French, in the great action in which both Montcalm and Wolf fell, and he continued to exercise the chieftain snip till his death, when his second son succeeded him. It was one of the consequences of the hostility of the Indians to the English rule, that many of the remote tribes were left, for a time, without traders to supply their wants. This was the case, tradition asserts, with Chagoimegon, which, for two years after the taking of old Mackinac, was left without a trader. To remonstrate against this. Ma Mongazida visited Sir William Johnson, the superintendant general of Indian affairs, by whom he was well received, and presented with a broad wampum belt and gorget. This act laid the foundation of a lasting- peace between the Chip- pewas and the English. The belt, it is added, was of blue wampum, with figures of white. And when Wabojeeg came to the chieftamship, he took from it the wampum employed by him to muster his wai parties. In making traditionary enquiries I have found that the Indian narra- tors were careful to preserve and note any fact, in the early lives of their distinguished men, which appeared to prefigure their future eminence, or had any thing of the wonderful or premonitory, in its character. The following incident of this sort, was noticed respecting this chief Ma Mongazida generally went to make his fall hunts on the middle grounds towards the Sioux territory, taking with him all his near relatives, amount- ing usually to twenty persons, exclusive of children. Early one morning while the young men were preparing for tiie chase, they were startled by the report of several shots, directed towards the lodge. As they had thought themselves in security, the first emotion was surprise, and they had scarcely time to fly to their arms, when another volley was fired, which wounded one man in the thigh, and killed a dog. Ma Mongazida immediately sallied out with his young men, and pronouncing his name aloud in the Sioux language, demanded if Wabasha or his brother, were among the assailants. The firing instantly ceased — a pause en.>uod, when a tall figure, in a war dress, with a profusion of feathers upon his head, stepped forward and presenttn bis hand. It was the elder Wabasha, his half brother. The Sioux peaceably followed their leader into the lodge, upon which they had, the moment before, directed their shots. At the in- stant the Sioux chief entered, it was necessary to stoop a little, in passing the door. In the act of stooping, he received a blow from a war- club wielded by a small boy, who had posted himself there for the pur- pose. It was the young Wabojeeg. Wabasha, pleased with this early indication of courage, took the little lad in his arms, caressed him, and WABOJEEO, OR THE WHITE FlbHER. 139 pronounced that he would become a brave man, and prove an inveterate enemy of the Sioux. The border warfare in which the father of the infant warrior was con- stantly en<^ng('d, early initiated him in the arts and ciTtiiionios pertaining to war. With the eager interest and love of novtliy of the young, he lis- tened to their war songs and war stories, and longed for the time when he would be old enough to join these parties, and also make himself a name among warriors. While quite a youth he volunteered to go out with a party, and soon gave convincing proofs of Jiis courage. He also early learned the arts of hunting the deer, the bear, the moose, and all the smaller animals common to the country ; and in these pursuits, he took the ordinary lessons of Indian young men, in abstinence, sufl'ering, dan- ger and endurance of fatigue. In this manner his nerves were knit and foimed for activity, anil his mind stored with those lessons of caution which are the result of local experience m the forest. He possessed a tall and commanding person, with a full black piercing eye, and the usual features of his countrymen. He had a clear and full toned voice, and spoke his native language with grace and fluency. To these attractions, he united an early reputation for bravery and skill in the chase, and at the age of twenty -tw^o, he was already a war leader. Expeditions of one Indian tribe against another, require the utmost caution, skill, and secrecy. There are a hundred things to give informa- tion to such a party, or influence its action, which are unknown to civilized nations. The breaking of a twig, the slightest impression of a foot print, and other like circumstances, determine a halt, a retreat, or an advance. The most scrupulous attention is also paid to the signs of the heavens, the flight of birds, and above all, to the dreams and predictions of the jossakeed, priest, or prophet, who accompanies them, and who is entrusted with the sacred sack. The theory upon which all these parties are conducted, is secrecy and stratagem : to steal upon the enemy unawares ; to lay in am- bush, or decoy ; to kill and to avoid as much as possible the hazard of being killed. An intimate geographical knowledge of the country, is also required by a successful war leader, and such a nan piques himself, not only on knowing every prominent stream, hill, valley, wood, or rock, but the particular productions, animal, and vegetable, of the scene of opera- tions. When it is considered that this species of knowledge, shrewdness and sagacity, is possessed on both sides, and that the nations at war watch each other, as a lynx for its prey, it may be conceived, that many of these border war ])arties are either light skirmishes, sudden on-rushes, or utter failures. It is seldom that a close, well contested, long continued hard baule is fought. To kill a few men, tear off their scalps in haste, and retreat with these trophies, is a brave and honourable trait with them, and may be boasted of, in their triumphal dances and warlike festivities. To glean the details of these movements, would be to acquire the 140 WABOJEEG, OR THE WHITE FISHER. modern liistoiy of the tribe, which induced mo to direct my enquiries to the subject ; but the lapse of even forty or fifty years, had shorn tradition of most of these details, nnd often left the memory of results only. The Chippewas told me, that this chief had led them seven times to successful battle against the Sioux and the Outagamies, and that he had been wounded thrice — once in the thigh, once in the right shoulder, and a third time in the side and breast, being a glancing shot. His war parties consisted either of volunteers who had joined his standard at the war dance, or of au.viliaries, who had accepted his messages of wampum and tobacco, and come forward in a body, to the appointed place of rendezvous. These paitie.s varied greatly in number; his first party ccmsisled of but forty men, his greatest and most renowned, of three hundred, who were mustered from the villages on the shores of the lake, as far east as St. Mary's fails. It is to the incidents of this last expedition, which had an important in- fluence on the progress of the war, that we may devote a few moments. The place of rendezvous was La Pointe Chagomiegon, or as it is called in modern days, La Pointe of Lake Superior. The scene of the conflict, which was a long and bloody one, was the falls of the St. Croix. The two places are distant about two hundred and fifty miles, by the most di- rect route. This area embraces the sununit land between Lake Superior and the upper Mississippi. The streams flowing each way interlock, which enables the natives to ascend them in their light canoes, and after carrying the latter over the portages, to descend on the opposite side. On this occasion Wabojceg and his partizan army, ascended the Muskigo, or Mauvais river, to its connecting portage with the Namakagon branch of the St. Croix. On crossing the summit, they embarked in their small and light war canoes on their descent westward. This portion of the route was passed with the utmost caution. They were now rapidly approach- ing the enemy's borders, and every sign was regarded with deep attention. They were seven days from the time they first reached the waters of the St. Croix, until they found the enemy. They went but a short distance each day, and encamj)ed. On the evening of the seventh day, the scouts discovered a large body of Sioux and Outagamies encamped on the lower side of the portage of the great falls of the St. Croix. The discovery was a surprise on both sides. The advance of the Chippewas had landed at the upper end of the portage, intending to encamp there. Tlie Sioux and their allies had just preceded them, from the lower part of the stream with the same object. The Foxes or Outagamie-s immediately fired, and a battle ensued. It is a spot indeed, from which a retreat either way is impracticable, in the face of an enemy. It is a mere neck of rugged rock, The river forces a passage through this dark and solid barrier. It is equally rapid and dangerous for canoes above and below. It cannot be crossed direct After the firmg began Wabojeeg landed and brought ud WABOJEEG, OR JIIE WIIITK FISHER. 141 his men. He dircctod a pint of tliein to extend themselves in tlie wood around tlie srniill nedi, or peninsula, of the portage, whence iilonc escape was possible. BotJi parties fought with bravery; the Fo.xes with despera- tion. But they were outnumbered, overpowered, and di.'feated. Some attempted to descend the rapids, and were lost. A few only escaped. But the Cliipjjewas paid dearly for th>:'ir victory. Wabqjeeg was slightly wounded in the breast : his brother was killed. Many brave warriors fell. It was a most sanguinary scene. The tradition of this battle is one of the most prominent and wide spread of the events of their modern history. 1 have conversed with more than one chief, whs dated his fnst military honours in youth, to this scene. It put an end to their feud with the Fo.ves, who retired from the intermediate rice laUes, and fled down the Wisconsin. It raised the name of the Chippewa leader, to the acme of his renown among his people: but Wabojeeg, as humane as he was brave, grieved over the loss of his people who had fallen in the action. This feeling was expressed touchingly and characteristically, in a war song, which he i lu., 1 af:er this victory which has been preserved by the late Mr. Johi" t(, ' ,:i. Mary's, in the following stanzas. On tl. .. ^uy when our heroes lay low — lay low, On that day when our heroes lay low, I fought by their side, and thought ere 1 died, Just vengeance to take on the foe, Just vengeance to take on the foe. On that day, when our chieftains lay deid — lay dead, On tha* day when our chieftains lay dead, I foTgnt hand to hand, at the head of my band. And here, on my breast, have I bled. And here, on my breast, have I bled. Our chiefs shall return no more — no more. Our chiefs shall return no more, Nor their brothers of war, who can show scar for scar. Like women their fates shall deplore — deplore, Like women their fate shall deplore. Five winters in hunting we'll spend — we'll spend. Five winters in hunting we'll spend. Till our youth, grown to men, we'll to war lead again, And our days, like our fathers, we'll end, And our days, like our fathers, we'll end. It Is the custom of these tribes to go to war in the spring and summer, which arc, not on'y comparatively seasons of leisure with them. 142 ■WAnOJEEQ, OR THE WHITE FISHER. but it is at these seasons that they are concealed and protected by tho foliage of the forest, and can approach the enemy unseen. At these annual returns of warmth and vegetation, they also engage in festivities and dances, during which the events and exploits of past years are sang and recited : and while they derive fresh courage and stimulus to renewed exertions, the young, who are listeners, learn to emulate their fathers, and take their earliest lessons in the art of war. Nothing is done in the jrnmer months in the way of hunting. The small furred animals are changing their pelt, which is out of season. The doe retires with her fawns, from the plains and open grounds, into thick woods. It is the general season of reproduction, and the red man for a time, intermits his war on the animal creation, to resume it against man. As the autumn approaches, he prepares for his fall hunts, by retiring from the outskirts of the settlements, and from the open lakes, shores, and streams, which have been the scenes of his summer festivities; and pro- ceeds, after a short preparatory hunt, to his wintering grounds. This round of hunting, and of festivity and war, fills up the year ; all the tribes conform in these general customs. There are no war parties raised in the winter. This season is exclusively dtvoted to securing the means of their subsistence and clothing, by seeking the valuable skins, which are to purchase their clothing and their ammunition, traps and arms. The hunting grounds of the chief, whose life n-e are considering, ex- tended along the sotithern shores of Lake Superior from the Montreal River, to the inlet of the Misacoda, or Burntwood River of Fond du Lac If he ascended the one. he usually made the wide circuit indicated, and came out at the other. He often penetrated by a central route up the Maskigo. This is a region still abounding, but less so than formerly, in the bear, moose, beaver, otter, martin, and muskrat. Among the smallei animals are also to be noticed the mink, lynx, hare, porcupine, and par- tridge, and towards its southern and western limits, the Virginia deer. In this ample area, the La Pointe, or Chagoimegon Indians hunted. It is a rule of the chase, that each hunter has a portion of the country assigned to him, on which he alone may hunt ; and there are conventional laws which de- cide all questions of right and priority in starting and killing game. In these questions, the chief exercises a proper authority, and it is thus in the power of one of these forest governors and magistrates, where they happen to be men of sound sense, judgment and manly independence, to make themselves felt and known, and to become true benefactors to their tribes. And such chiefs create an impression upon their followers, and leave a reputation behind them, which is of more value than their achievements in war. Wabojeeg excelled in both characters ; he was equally popular as a civil Tuler and a war chief; and while he administered justice to his peo- ple, he was an expert hunter, and made due and ample provision for his WABOJEEG, OR THE WHITE FISHER. 143 family. He usually gleaned, in a season, by his traps and carbine, four packs of mixed furs, the avails of which were ample to provide clothing for all the members of his lodge circle, as well as to renew his supply of ammunition and other essential articles. On one occasion, he had a singular contest with a moose. He had gone out, one morning early, to set martin traps. He had set about forty, and was returning to his lodge, when he une.\pectedly encountered a large moose, in his path, which manifested a disposition to attack him. Being unarmed, and having nothing but a knife and small hatchet, which he had carried to make his traps, he tried to avoid it. But the ani- mal came towards him in a furious manner. He took shelter behind a tree, shifting his position from tree to tree, retreating. At length, as he fled, he picked up a pole, and quickly untying his moccasin strings, he bound his knife to the end of the pole. He then placed himself in a favourable position, behind a tree, and when the moose came up, stabbed him several times in the throat and breast. At last, the animal, exhausted with the loss of blood, fell. He then dispatched him, and cut out his tongue to carry home to his lodge as a trophy of victory. When they went back to the spot, for the carcass, they found the snow trampled down in a wide circle, and copiously sprinkled with blood, which gave it the appearance of a battle-field. It proved to be a male of uncommon eize. The domestic history of a native chief, can seldom be obtained. In the present instance, the facts that follow, may be regarded with interest, as having been obtained from residents of Chagoimegon, or from his descen- dants. He did not take a wife till about the age of thirty, and he then married a widow, by whom he had one son. He had obtained early notoriety as a warrior, which perhaps absorbed his attention. What causes there were to render this union unsatisfactory, or whether there were any, is not known ; but after the lapse of two years, he mar- ried a girl of fourteen, of the totem of the bear, by whom he had a family of six children. He is represented as of a temper and manners affec- tionate and forbearing. He evinced thoughtfulness and diligence in the management of his affairs, and the order and disposition of his lodge. When the hunting season was over, he employed his leisure moments in adding to the comforts of his lodge. His lodge was of an oblong shape, ten fathoms long, and made by setting two rows of posts firmly in the ground, and sheathing the sides and roof with the smooth bark of the birch. From the centre rose a post crowned with the carved figure of an owl, which he had probably selected as a bird of good omen, for it was neither his own nor his wife's totem. This figure was so placed, that it turned with the wind, and answered the purpose of a weather- cock. In person Wabojeeg was tall, being six feet six inches, erect in carriage. II liiii lii. 144 WABOJEEO, OH THE WIUTK FISHER. and of slender riiiilvc. He possessed a coininniiding coiwitenance, united to easci and dignity of maimers. He was a ready and fluent speaker, and conducted personally tlic negotiations with the Fox and Sioux nations. It was perhaps Mveiity years after the battle on the St. Croix, which es- tablished the Chippewa boundary in that (piarter, and while his children were still young, that there came to his vilLig(!, in tiie capacity of a trader, .1 young gentleman o( ii resjjectable family in tiie north of Irel.iml, who formed an exalted notion of his character, bearing, and warlike exj)loits. This visit, and his coiiseipient residence on the lake, diiiiiig the winter, became an important era to the chief, and has linked his name and me- mory with miineroiis persons in civilized life. Mr. .lohnston asked the northern chief for his youngest daughter. Englishman, he replied, my daughter is yet young, and you cannot take her as while men have too often taken our daughters. It will be time enough to think of complying with your request, when you return again to this lake in the summer. My daughter is my favourite child, and I cannot part with her, unless you will promise to acknowledge \wr by such ceremonies as white men use. You must ever keep her, and never forsake her.. On this basis a union was formed, a union it may be said, between the Erse and Algonquin races — and it was faithfully adhered to, till his death, a period of thirty- seven years. Wabojeeg had unpaired his health in the numerous war parties which he conducted across the wide summit which separated his hunting grounds from the Mississippi valley. A slender frame, under a life of incessant exertion, brought on u premature decay. Consumption revealed itself at a comparatively early age, and he fell before this insidious disease, in a few years, at the early age of about forty-five. He died in 1793 at his native village of Chagoimegon. The incident which has been named, did not fail to make the forest chieftain acquainted with the leading truth of Christianity, in the revela- tion it makes of a saviour for all races. On the contrary, it is a truth which was brought to his knowledge and explained. It is, of course, not known with what particular effects. As he saw his end approaching, he requested that his body might not be buried out of sight, but placed, ac- cording to a custom prevalent in the remoter bands of this tribe, on a form supported by posts, or a scaffold. This trait is, perhaps, natural to the hunter state. My friends when my spirit is fled — is fled My friends when my spirit is fled. Ah, put me not bound, in the dark and cold ground, Where light shall no longer be shed — be shed. Where day-light no more shall be shed. Wri Englis Ifdiph redund follow genera of e, i, the letl seen al WABOJEEG. OR THE WHITE FISHER But lay me up scaffolded high — all high, Chiefs lay me up scaffolded high, Where my tribe shall still say, as they point to my clay, He ne'er from the foe sought to fly— to fly, He ne'er from the foe sought to fly. And children, who play on 'be si the shore, And children who play he shi As the war dance they beat, my name snail repeat, And the fate of their chieftan deplore — deplore, And the fate of their chieftain deplore. 145 1:1 : :. .IP '■■ MODE OP WRITING AN INDIAN LANGUAGE.. The rules of utterance of these tribes, after all that has been said ana written on the subject, are very simple, and determine the orthography, so far, at least, as relates to distinctions for the long and short vowels. If, in writing Indian, the syllables be separated by hyphens, there need be no uncertainty respecting their sounds, and we shall be saved a world of somewhat over nice disquisition. A vowel preceded by a consonant, is always long, a vowel followed by a consonant is always short. A vowel between two consonants, is short. "" A vowel standing by itself is always full or long. A few examples of well known words will denote this. On ta' ri o. Ni ag' ar a. O we' go. Ti 6 ga. Os we go. I'-o-wa. Wis con* sin. Chi ca go. Wa bash. Pe 6 ri a. Ti con de ro ga. Mis siss ip pi. O nei da. Al ab a ma O tis' CO. Or e ffon. Write the words by whatever system of orthography you will, French, English, or German, and the vowel sounds will vindicate this distinction. If diplithongs have been used, for simple vowels, through early mistake or redundancy, the rule is the same. If tlicy appear ns proppr diphthongs, they follow the rule of diphthongs. This principal of utterance appears to be a general and fixed law in the Indian languages as respects the sounds of e, i, 0, u, a.\id the two chief sounds of a, 1 and 3 of Walker's Key. As the letter a Las four distinct sounds, as in English, the chief discrepancies, seen above, will appear in the use of this letter. 10 SKETCHES OF THE LIVES ' NOTED RED MEN AND WOMEN, WHO HAVE APPEARED ON THE WESTERN CONTINENT. BRANT, RED JACKET, UNCAS, MIONTONIMO. « NOTICE OF THE BIOORArillEB OF THE LATE COL. WILLIAM L. BTONE, PREPARED FOR THE DEMOCRATIC REVIEW — 1843. The Egyptians embalmed their dead in myrrh and spices, but the blessed art of printing has given us a surer and less revolting method of preserving and transmitting to posterity, all that is truly valuable in the plaudits of virtue, worth, and honor. Books th • become a more perma- nent memorial than marble, and by their diu -n scatter those lessons among all mankind, which the age of mounds and hieroglyphics, stone and papyrus, had confined to the tablet of a shaft, or the dark recesses of a tomb or a pyramid. It is never to be forgotten, that in the development of this new phasis in the history of the human race, it was printing thst first lit the lamp of truth, and has driven on the experiment, till the boun- daries of letters have well nigh become co-extensive with the world. If we do not widely err, there is no part of the globe, wiiere books of all de- scriptions have become so cheap and abundant as they are at this time in the United States, and, laying aside all other considerations, we may find a proof of the position stated in the fact, that our vernacular literature is no longer confined to the production of school books, the annals of law and divinity, the age of muddy pamphlets, or the motley pages of the newspa per. We have no design to follow up these suggestions by showing how far the study of the natural sciences, the discussion of political economy, or the advances of belles-lettres, have operated to produce this result; far less to identify those causes, in the progress of western arts and commerce, which have concurred to bring down the price of books, and scatter the blessings of an untrammelled press, among all classes. It is sufficient for our purpose to say that even the lives of our distinguished native chieftains have come in for a share of modern notice, and, we feel proud to add, of a notice which, so far as it reaches, is worthy of the subject. And should our contributions on this head, for the last few years, be equally well fol- lowed up for a few years to come, even the desponding strains of one of 146 INDIAN RULERS. 147 (heir own impersonated heroes can no longer be repeated with perfect truth : *' They sink, they pass, they fly, they go, Like a vapor at morning's dawn. Or a flush of light, whose sudden glow Is seen, admired, and gone. " They died ; but if a brave man bleeds, And fills the dreamless grave, Shall none repeat his name, his deeds. Nor tell that he was brave ?" To no one in our literary annals is the public so much mdebtcd for res- cuing from oblivion the traits and character of the four celebrated cliiefs whose names stand at the head of this article, as to the able author of these biographies, William L. Stone. Gifted with a keen perception of the ques- tions of right and wrong, which turn upon the planting of the colonies among barbarians, who more than idled away their days upon a soil which they did not cultivate — with a deep sympathy in their fate and for- tunes, on the one hand, and tne paramount claims of letters and Christian- ity on the other, he has set himself to the task of rendering justice to whom justice belongs, with the ardor of a philanthropist, and the research of a historian. He appears to have planned a series of biographies which, if completed, will give a connected view of the leading tribes who occupied N .V York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts, with a range in the examination of contemporary men and collateral topics, which em- braces a wide circle. And he has filled up the outlines of his plan, thus far, in a manner which leaves but little to glean in the path which he has trod, if the extension of this circle, and the. large amount of contempo- raneous matter brought in, has, in the minds of some, abstracted too large a share of attention, and left the biographies with less unity and compact- ness than they would otherwise have assumed, this is exclusively the fault of their plan, so far as it is acknowledged, and not of the execution. And for this coBrse of extension there is a plea to be found m the nature of the subject, in the treatment of which, scantiness of material was often sought to be supplied by the introduction of collateral and sometimes extraneous matter. We propose briefly to notice the scries of these biographies in their order of publication. In his first work on Brant, he has presented, in liv- ing colors, the great Mohawk of 1776, who rose up to crush that confea- eracy which Washington and his compeers had pledged their lives to maintain. Brant was a man of power and capacities, mental and physical beyond his tribe ; and was so situated, in the actual contest, as to thi. w a greater weight into the scale against us, than any other, or all of the hos- tile chiefs of the Red Race put together. If he could not, like Ariel, call mm ml .MR INDIAN RULERS. up the "spirits of the vasty deep," he could, at his bidding, summon together the no less miilignniit spirits of the woods, who fell upon our sleeping hamlets with the fury of demons. And whether at Johnscn Mall or Ni.igarn, at Cherry Valley or Schoharie, on the waters of the Uriskany or the Chemung, ho was the ruling and informing spirit of the contest. Such was the power he wielded as commander of a most oflective body of light troops (for such are all Indian warriors), who were supported by large and well appointed armies, that, like the electric flashes of the boding storm, he preceded the heavier outbreak by sounding aloud the wild nol( s of terror and dismay. It was in this manner that his name became a talisman on the frontiers, to conjure up decils of evil, and in this way also, doubtless, it became loaded with reproaches, some of which, as the author has denoted, were due to other actors in the contest. It is dilficult, however, to disturb the judgments of a preceding age, on the character of individuals who have long passed off the stage of aciion, whether those judgments be favorable or unfavorable ; and it is, in fact, impossible to re- verse them. It is only necessary to glace backward a short way, on the track of biography, to perceive that posterity never revises the opinions once put on individual character, heroic or literary. It tries to forget all it can, and every body it can, and never remembers a long time any name which it is possible to forget. It is willing, we should infer, to concede something to the great men among barbarian nations, whose names have often burst upon civilized society with the fearful attractions of the m 'cor, or the comet, producing admiration in the beholders, without slopping to inquire the true cause. Such were the Tainerlanes, and the Tippoo Saibs of the eastern world, of a prior age, as well as the Mehemet Alis and Abdcl Kaders of the present. And such were, also, with reduced means of a'ction, numbers of the American aboriginal chiefs, who, between the days of Manco Capac and Micanopy have figured in the history of tho western world. Most of these men owe their celebrity to the mere fact of their having dazzled or astounded, or like Brant himself, excited the terror of those who opposed them. In the case of the latter, a change of opin- ion in those particular trails which afTect his humanity, is K;ss readily made, from tho fact, yet generally remembered, that he had received a Christian education ; that he was, wliile a mere boy, received into the best society, acquired the English language, and had been instructed, first at a New England academy, and afterwards at one of its most praclically efficient colleges. Posterity holds the Mohawk chief responsibid to have carried the precepts thus obtained into the forest, and to have difiused their blessings among those who had perhaps his bravery, without his talents or his knowledge. Those who fought against him were ill qualified, we confess, to be his judges. He had not only espoused the wrong cause, wrong because it was adverse to the progress of national freedom and those very principles his people contended for ; but he battled for it with a INDIAN RULERS. 149 (1 a mnstei's hand, and made the force of his energy felt, as the author has more fully indicated than was hefore known, t'lom the hanks of the Mo- hawk and the Niagara, to the Ohio, the Miami, and the Wahiisii. Yet, if there was error in the extent to which he failed to carry the preempts ofciv- iliziition and Ciiristianity, it was meet it should be pointed out, although it will also be admitted, the public have a right to look for the strongest of these proofs of a kind and benevolent feeling towards his open enemies, out of tlie range of his domestic circle. His family had carried the incipient principles of civilization, which he gave ihem, too high — they had exhib- ited to the next age, a too prominent example of cultivation and refinement in every sense — not to feel deeply theoblorpiy cast upon his name, by the poetic spirit of the times ; and not to wish that one who had, in verity, so many high and noble cpialities, both in the council and the (ield, should also be without a spot on his hiunanity. We deem the feeling as honor- able to all who have the blood of the chieftain in their veins as it is praise- worthy in his biograpli'^r. We cannot, however, consent to forget, that historical truth is very severe in its requisitions, and is not to be put olF, by friend or foe, with hearsay testimony, or plausible surmises. Brant cannot, like Xicotenoal, he accused of h.ning joined the invaders of his country, who were recklessly resolved upon its subjugation ; but he overlooked the fact, that both the incadcr and the invathil in the long and bloody border warfare of the revolution, were, in all that constitutes charac- ter, the same people. They were of the same blood and lineage, spoke the same language, had the same laws and customs, and the same litera- ture and religion, and he failed to see that the only real point of difference between thern was, who should wield the sceptre. Whichever party gained the day in such a contest, letters and Christianity must triumph, and as the inevitable resuh, barbarism must decline, and the power of the Indian nation fall. In Brant, barbarism and civilization evinced a strong and singular con- test. He was at one moment a savage, and at another a civilian, at one moment cruel, and at another humane; and he exhibited, throughout all the heroic period of his career, a constant vacillation and struggle between good and bad, noble and ignoble feelings, and, as one or the other got the mastery, he was an angel of mercy, or a demon of destruction. In this re- spect, his character does not essentially vary from that which has been found to mark the other leading red men who, from Philip to Osceola, have appeared on the stage of action. Like them, his reasoning facuUies were far less developed than his physical perceptions. And to attempt to follow or find anything like a fixed principle of humanity, basing itself on the higher obligations that sway the human breast, would, we fear, be- come a search after that which had no existence in his mind ; or if the germ was there, it was too feeble tc become predominant. We do not think it necessary, in commenting on his life, to enter into any nice ;!■ 1 1 \h'- im^ 160 INDIAN RULERS. train ol ronsoning' or motives to account fcr this cliarncterisiic, or to recon cilo cruelties of the most shockiiijj liiml, wlicn contrasted with traits of mildness nnil urbanity. They were ditil'retii moods of the man, and in rnnninff baeif over the eventful years of his life, it hiconus dear, that civilization had never so completely gained the mastery over his mini! and heart, as not to desert him, without notice, the moment he heard the soimd of the war-whoop. The fact that he could use the pen, supplied no ir»- superable motive against his wielding the war club. Mis tomahawk and his 'J'estament lay on the same shelf The worst trait in his character is revealed in his tardiness to execute acts of jniijwfrd mercy. Tliere was too often some impediment, which served as an e.xcuse, as whin he had a ploughed field to cross to save Wells and his family, or a lamo heel, or gave up the design altogether, ns in the case of Wisncr, whom he con- strued it into an act of mercy to tomahawk. That he was, however, a man of an e.xtraordinary firmness, courage and decision of character, is without doubt. But his fate and fortunes have not been such as to give much encouragement to chiefs of the native race in lending their influence to European, or Anglo-European powers, who may be engaged in hostilities against each other on this continent. Pontiac had realized this before him, and Tecumtha realized it alter him. Neither attained the object he sought. One of tliese chiefs was assassi- nated, the other fell in battle, and Brant himself only survived the defeat of his cause, to fret out his latter days in vain aUempts to obtain justice from the power which he had most loyally served, and greatly benelited. Had he been knighted at the close of the contest, in.stead of being shuflicd from one great man to another, at home and abroad, it would have been an instance of a noble e.xercise of that power. But Cleorge III. seemed to have been fated, at all points, neither to do justice to his friends nor his enemies. Such was Brant, or Thayendanegeo. symboUically; the Band of his tribe,* to whose lot it has fallentoacl a more distinguished part in the Colonies, as a consummate warrior, than any other aboriginal chieftain who has arisen. And his memory was well worthy of the elaborate work in which his biographer has presented him, in the most favourable points of view, amidst a comprehensive history of the border wars of the revolu- tion, without, however, concealing atrocities of which he was, perhaps sometimes unwillingly, the agent. A word, and but a word, will be added, as to some points connected with this chiefs character, which are not in coincidence with the generally received opinion, or are now first introduced by way of palliation, or vin- dication. We confess, that so far as the presence or absence of the Great Mohawk in the massacre of Wyoming, is concerned, the statements arc * The name is usually translated, two-sticks tied, or united. INDIAN RULERS. 151 eilhfir inconclusive, or less satisfactory than could bo wished. Tiiere wua quite too much fet indubitable proofs that his personal courage could not always be " set* ■/!. .1 up to the sticking point." But in native intellect, he was even superior to Brant. He was, indeed, the Brant of the council, and often came down upon his opponents with bursts of eloquence, trains of argurnen:, or rhap- sodies of thought, which were irresistible. And of him. it may be sym- bolically said, that his tongue was his tomahawk, and the grandiloquent vocabulary of the Seneca language, his war-c'ub. Nor has any native chieftain wielded the weapon to more purpose, or with a longer continued effect than the great Seneca orator. The specimens of his eloquence which have appeared in our newspapers for forty years or more, are still fresh in the memory, and it was due and meet that these should be col- lected and preserved in a permanent shape, together with such particulars of his life and career as could be obtained. This task has been performea 162 INDIAN RULEHS. by Col. Stone, in a manner which leaves nothing more to be attempted on the subject. Much zeal and industry have been evinced in eliciting facts from every quarter where it was probable information could be had. And he has brought together a body of contemporaneous proofs and reminis- cences, touching this chief, which a few years would have put beyond the power of recovery, and which a position less prominent than he occupied as a public journalist, might have rendered it difficult for another to collect. We need only refer to the names of Gen. P. B. Porter, Rev. J. Brecken- ridge, Mr. Parish, and Mr. Hosmer, to show the character of this part of his materials. Other chiefs of the native stock, have produced occasional pieces of elo- quence, or admired oratory, but Red-Jacket is the only prominent individual who has devoted his whole career to it. That he did, indeed, excel, pro- ducing effects which no reported speech of his ever equalled or did justice to, there are still many living to attest. In the question of land sales, which arose between the white and red races, there were frequent occa- sions to bring him out. And these, in the end, assumed a complicated shape, from cither the vague nature, or ill understood conditions of prior grants. In all these discussions, he preserved a unity and consistency in the set of opinions he had adopted. He was opposed to further sales, to removal, to civilization, and to the introduction of Christianity among his people. What Brant had done in politics, Red-Jacket repeated in morals. Both took the wfongsuIeTaml both failed. But it is to be said of the Sen* eca orator, that he did not live to see the final defeat of that course of policy which he had so long and so ably advocated. It was remarked by Mr. Clinton, and the fact had impressed others, that the Iroquois, or Si.>c Nations, excelled the other natives in eloquence. Of this, their history, during the Supremacy of Holland and England in New York, as given by Colden, furnishes ample proofs. The speech of Gar anguia, against the Governor General of Canada and his wily policy, is unexcelled, as a whole, by anything which even Red-Jacket has left in print, though much of the effect of it is due to the superior and heroic po- sition occupied by the tribes for whom he spoke. Logan, unexcelled ly all others for his pathos and simplicity, it must be remembered, was also of this stock, — Mingo, or Mengwe, as the Delawares pronounced it, being but a generic term for Iroquois ; so that the transmission of this trait, from the proud era of the Iroquois confederacy down to modern days, is quite in keeping with the opinion (jnoted. It is to be wished that Col. Stone would supply another link in the chain of Iroquois history, by favoring the public with the life of the noted Oneida chief, Shenandoah, for which materials must exist in the Kirkland family. The lives of the two men, Uncas and Miontonimo, whose leading asts INDIAN RULERS. 153 lie described in one of the volumes named in our caption, belong to an earlier period of history, and a difFerent theatre of action. The scene changes from western New York to the seaboard of Connecticut, llhode Island, and, to some extent, Massachusetts. Uiicas was the good genius, the tutelary spirit, if we may so say, of the colony of Connecticut ; arid the best monument which that State could erect to his memory, would be to change the unmeaning and worn out name of one of her counties, New London, for tliat of the noble and fiiendly chief, of whose forest kingdom it once formed a part. From the first day that the English colonists set foot within it, to the hour of his death, Uncas was the unwavering " friend of the white man," as his biographer justly calls him. He was of that race, wiiom history has, without making a particle of allowance for sav- age ignorance and hereditary prejudice, branded under the name of Pe- quods. They were of that type of languages and lineage, which was very well characterized generically, at least as far south as the original country of the Delawares; but which assumed a sub-type after crossing the Hudson, and was known east of that point under one of its superin- duced forms, as the Mohegan. This term had been dropped by the Pe- quods, if it was ever their specific cognomen, but it is a proof, and we think a very conclusive proof, of the yet freshly remembered affiliation with Taminund* and the Manhattans, that Uncas, the moment he revolted from King Sassacus, assumed the name of a Mohegan, and put himself at the head of that tribe, as it then existed within the boundaries of Connecticut. Or rather, he constituted the revoked Pcquods a new tribe, under an old and respected name, and he thus laid the foundation of the Uncas dynasty. Placed thus by circumstances in a position, in which he sought an alliance with the early colonists, and finding his security in theirs, he was in fact the only leading chief of the times who, really, heartily, and faithfully sought their prosperity and growth to the end. The rise of Uncas and Connecticut thus began at one era ; and as the alliance was founded on mutual interest and safety, it only grew stronger with time. A man of less force of character or natural sagacity than Uncas, would have vacillated when he saw the colonists becoming more powerful and himself more weak as years rolled on, and would have been seduced to enter into alli- ances for arresting the white man's power, as other native chiefs had done. But all history concurs in showing that, under every circumstance, and there were many of the most trying kind, ho carried himself well, and avoided even a suspicion of his fidelity. Uncas was well qualilied for a ruler both in mind and person. He pos- sessed a fine figure, over si.^c feet in height, a commanding voice, and a noble bearing. He was mild yet dignified in his manners. He was not * Tlie name of this cliief is Anglicised in the word Tammany 154 INDIAN RULERS. only wise in council, but brave* in war, as he evinced in many instances, but particularly in the battle of Sachem's Plain, in which he proved him- self the bravest and most chivalrous of the brave. Yet his wisdom and moderation in governing his people, and the well balanced justice and con- sistency of his character, give him a still higher reputation, and establish his best claim to remembrance. In all the trials in wiiich he was placed, in all the temptations he had to fly into a rage, and act out the savage, he sustained this character for wise deliberation ; and by adhering to iiis first covenant with the English, and laying all his plans and grievances before the colonial courts, he raised himself in strength and reputation, and finally triumphed, first over Sassacus, and then over Miontonimo, the two great- est and most powerful of his immediate contemporaries. If Uncas was the patron of Connecticut, Miontonimo, with his family of the Narragansett chiefdom, was equally so of Rhode Island. And it is from this obvious fact, probably, in part, that we find the historical notices of him, from the last quarter, decidedly more favorable to his genera] character than those emanating from the land of his enemy and his con- queror, Uncas. While there is no disagreement as to any historical fact of note, it is natural that some little shade of feeling of this nature should remain. We have noticed a similar feeling with respect to existing tribes and chiefs, in the western world, where the inhabitants never fail to bo imbued with tho.se peculiar notions and traditions of the particular tribe about them, which represent the latter as the principal nation, and invest them with tribal traits of superiority. It is a feeling which luiins to the better side of one's nature, and does ho ior to men's hearts ; but the histo- rian is obliged to look at such questions with a colder eye, and can never abate a tittle of the truth, although he may run counter to this local sym- pathy and bias. We could name some remarkable instances of this preju- dice, if we were willing to digress. If Miontonimo bo compared to Uncas, it will at once be seen that he lacked the latter's sagacity and firnmuss of character. Had the Nar- ragansett listened to Sassacus, and formed a league with him, he would have crushed, for a time, tlie infant colony of Connecticut. This he de- clined, apparently, because it had the specific character of enabling Sassa- cus to put down Uncas. After the Pequod king had been defeated and * The terms " brave" and " braves" used in a substantive senso, in Uiis work, are neitlicr English nor Indian. Tiie Indian term Bliouid bo translated strart, its literal import ; for it is one of the general rules of these lunguugos, that the operation of the adjective, as well as action of the verb, is uniformly marked upon the substan- tive — there being, indeed, different inflections of each substantive, to denote whcthei this operation or action be caused by a noble or ignoble, or an animate or inanimate ob- ject. Still the general use of the Canadian term Brave, on our Indian border, may give it some poetic claims to introduction into our vernacular, burthened as it abeadyis with more objectionable Americanisms. INDIAN RULERS. 155 fled to the Mohawks, Miontonimo was left in a position to assume tlie Pe- quod's policy, and then tried to bring Uncas into just such a combination to fall on the colonists, as he had himself refused, when the proposition came from Sassacus. As Uncas not only refused, but laid the scheme be- fore his allies, Miontonimo went to war against him, with a large army. Uncas hastily prepared to meet him, with a smaller force. They met on Sachem's Plain, on the banks of the Shawtuckct. Uncas, unwilling to see so mnny of his people slain in battle, nobly stepped forward and pro- posed a personal combat, to decide the question of who should rule, and who obey. It was declined, but the moment the reply was made, he threw himself on the plain, a signal, it seems, for hjj men to advance, and they came on with such an impulse, that he won the day and took Mion- tonimo prisoner. This capture was the act of one cT his minor chiefs; but when his enemy was brought before him, he declined exercising his right of putting him to death, but determined to refer the matter to the au- thorities of Hartford. There it was found to be a knotty question, and finally referred to the General Court at Boston. The Court strengthened itself with the opinions of six distinguished clergymen and several eminent civilians ; and then decided, that the Narragansett chief had justly forfeited his life, by violating his political covenants with the colonies, but it might not be taken away by them. He must be remanded to Uncas, within his jurisdiction, and by him be executed ; but it was enjoined, with a very poor compliment to the known mildness of the «.! aracter of Uncas, that no needless cruelty should be practised. Here, then, the white man evinced less mercy than the red had done. Miontonimo was now released from his confinement, and conducted back to the very spot where he had first been taken prisoner, as he approached which, one of the Mohegans who accompanied him, keeping him in entire ignorance of his fate, raised his tomahawk as he walked behind him, and laid him dead at a blow. Whether the moral responsibility of this execution rests with the court, or the executioner, we do not propose particularly to inquire, nor to ascer- tain to what degree it was shuffled off, by directing an Indian to commit an act which it was unlawful for a white man and a Christian to perform. Hiid Uncas slain his adversary in cold blood, after the action, the thing would have been in perfect accordance with Indian law. Had Mionton- imo been a subject of either of the colonies of Connecticut, Rhode Island or Massachusetts, and levied war, or committed any overt act of treason, his execution would have been in accordance with the laws of civilized nations. Neither condition happened. It was, however, felt, that the great disturber of the colonics, after Sassacus, had now been caught. He hail violated his covenant by going to war without apprising them. They die not believe he would keep any future covenants. The moral sense of ihe community would not be shocked, but rather gratified by his exe- cution. This point was strongly signified to the court. But they could m li 'ii li 156 INDIAN RULERS. not legally compass it. English law opposed it. The customs of civil izod nations, in warring with each other, opposed it. Should a difToren* rule be observed towards the aborigines ? Did the dictates of sound judg- ment and common sense, did the precepts of Christianity, — aye, "there was tlie rub,"— did the precepts of Christianity sanction it? On full de- liberation, — for the question was not decided in haste, — neitlier of these points could be aflirmatively answered. But while policy — the policy of expediency, the lust of power, and the offended moral sense of an exposed and suffering community demanded, as it was thought, the death of the sachem, still it was not found that one whom they had ever treated, and then viewed, as a foreign prince, legally considered, could be thus de- prived of his life. Imprisonment was not, as a permanent policy, resolved on. There was one course left to escape both dilemmas, and to avoid all censure. It was to restore things to the precise footing they had before his surrender. It was to hand him back to Uncas, without the expression of any decision, leaving that chieftain to act as he deemed fit. They re- manded him indeed, but went one step too far, by first deciding in a formal court, after months of deliberation, in the course of which the clergy and gentry, (this is a term that would be proper to the times) had been form ally consulted, and directed his death, stipulating only that he should net be killed with cruelty. If there was not something that smacks of the want of true and noble dealing in this — if it accorded with the bland pre- cepts of Christianity, to do unto others as you would that others should do unto you — if the act did not, in fine, partake of the very spirit of Jesuitism in tlie woist sense in which the word has been adopted into the language we have, we confess, formed a totally wrong idea of its meaning. A case, in some respects similar to this, happened in modern times which may be thought to contrast rather strongly with the above example of Puritan mercy. The reasons for a capital punishment, were, indeed, far more cogent, and the community called out strongly for it, and would have sustained it. It was the capture of Black Hawk, which, it will be recollected, took place during tlie first Presidential term of General Jack- son. Black Hawk had levied war within the boundaries of one of the States, on lands ceded by treaty, and organized a confederacy of Indian tribes, which, though broken up in part, chiefiy through the failure of the other tribes to fulfil their engagements with him, yet recjuired for its sup- pression the entire disposable force of the Union. The Sac chief was finally captured on Indian territory, in the act of fleeing west of the Mis sissippi. He was imprisoned, and the case referred to the Government for decision. He had broken his treaty covenants. He had not only made war, but in its outbreak and its continuance, had been guilty of coun- tenancing, at least, the most shocking barbarities. He had, indeed, opened the scene by cruelly murdering the agent of the Government, the repre- sentative of the President, in the person of Mr. St. Vrain. The commu nity, the There coi allowed I There wa istcd in Miontonii it, indeed, it rnctinjr white ? answered officer of 1 wise and indignatio chief In closi Mr. Stone hcnsive, a adding to field in its ment of tl present le' \ of jnuMji, 1 personatei stoutly ag INDIAN RULERS. 157 nity, the western States particularly, called loudly for his execution. There could bo no security, it was said, if such a bloody fellow was al- allowed to roam at large. lie had forfeited his life a thousand times. There was, indeed, the siirne popular feeling against him, which had e.\- isted in New England, one hundred and ninety years before, against Miontonimo. But could he have been Ifgally executed? And if so, was it, indeed, the true policy ? Was it noble — was it high-minded? Was it meting out exact and equal justice to men with red skins, as well us white? It was thought that all these questions must be negatively answered ; and the bold Sac insurgent was sent home, accompanied by an officer of the army, to secure his comfort and safety, and thus to see that a wise and merciful decision should be faithfully carried out, and popular indignation bo prevented from wreaking itself, in the assassination of the chief. In closing these remarks, it may appear selfish to express the hope, that Mr. Stone, to whom we are already indebted for these spirited, compre- hensive, and well written volumes, should still further employ his pen in adding to the sum of these obligations. But he has so well studied the field in its historical bearing, so far at least as relates to the eastern depart- ment of the Union, that we know of no one to whom the labour would present less of the character of a task. Wc are in want of a good account \ of Phihji, or Mctacom, the energetic sachem of the Pokenokets, who im« ! personated so fully the wild liidiiui character, and views, and battled so stoutly against the occupancy of New England by the Saxon race. In showing up to modern times such a man, we think a biography would de- rive, very deep interest, and it would certainly be a new experiment, to take up the aboriginal views and opinions of the invading race, and thus write, as it were, from within^ instead of without the circle of warlike ac- tion. In this way, their combinations, eflforts and power, would better ap- pear, and redound more to the credit of the aboriginal actors, as warriors and he jes. As it is, history only alludes to them as conspirators, rebels, traitors, or culprits; as if the fact of their opposing the egress of civilized nations, who were in all respects wiser and better, were sufficient to blot out all their right and claim to the soil and sovereignty of the land of their forefathers, and they were in fact bound to stand back, and give it up nolens vokns. We had designed to subjoin a few remarks on the biographical labors of other writers in this department, particularly those of Thatcher and Drake, but our limits are already exhausted, and we must abandon, or at least, defer it I m THE RABID WOLF. A VERITABLE TRADITION OF THE VALLEY OF THE TAM'ASENTHA. ifl The great Pine Plains, beginning not far south of the junction of the Mohawk with the North River, are still infested by wolves, who harbour in its deep gorges, from which they sally out at night, on the sheep-folds of the fanners, and often put a whole neighbourhood in fear. The rail- road track from Albany to Schenectady, pusses over a part of these plains, which stretch away in the direction of the blue outlines of the Hel- derberg mountains. It is many miles across the narrowest part of them, and they reacli down to the very outskirts of the city of Albany, where they have of late years, and since Buel's day, begun to cultivate them by Bowing clover, planting fruit trees, and in other ways. They constitute the table land of the county, and send out from beneath their Jieavy mass of yellow sand and broken down sand stones, mica slates, and granites, many springs and streams of the purest and most crystalline waters, which find their outlets chiefly into the valley of the Tawasentha, or, as the river is called in popular language, the Norman's Kill, and are thus contributed to swell the noble volume of the Hudson. These springs issue at the pre- cise point where the arenaceous mass rests on a clay or impervious basis. The efTect, in ancient years, has been that the sand is carried ofl^, grain by grain, till a deep ravine or gorge is formed. The sides of this gorge being composed of mixed earth and some mould, and free from the aridity of the surface, bear a dense and vigorous growth of hard wood trees and shrubbery, and are often found to be encumbered with immense trunks of fallen pines and other forest rubbish, which renders it very difficult to penetrate them. It is into these dark gorges that the wolves retreat, after scouring the plains and neighbouring farms for prey ; and here they have maintained their ancient empire from time immemorial. Such, at least, was the state of things between the settlers and the wolves, at the date of this story, in 1807. Sometimes the whole country armed and turned out en masse,to ferret ihem out of their fastnesses and destroy them ; and truly the forces assembled on some of these wolf-hunts were surprising, and, in one respect, that is to say, the motley and uncouth character of their arms, they would have put both Bonaparte and Wellington to flight. There was nothing, from a pitchfork to a heavy blunderbuss, which they did not carry, always excepting a good rifle, which I never remember to have seen on these occasions. Indeed, these formal turn-outs were better suited to frighten away, than to kill and capture the foe ; so that there was no 158 brought VILLAGE TRADITION. 169 just cause of surprise why the wolves remained, and even increased. They still kept masters of the Plains — sheep were killed by dozens, night after night, and the alarm went on. It was at other times tried to trap them, and to bait them in sundry ways. I recollect that we all had implicit faith in the village schoolmaster, one Cleanthus, who knew some Latin, and a little of almost every thing ; and among other arts which he cherished, and dealt out in a way to excite wonder for his skill, he knew how to make the wolves follow his tracks, by smearing his shoes with ffisofcjcditn, or some other substance, and then ensconcing himself at night in a log pen, where he might bid defiance to the best of them, and shoot at them besides. But I never could learn that there were any of these pestiferous animals killed, either by the school- master and his party, or any other party, except it was the luckless poor animal I am about to write of, which showed its affinities to the canine race by turning rabid, and rushing at night into the midst of a populous manufacturing village. Iosco was eligibly soated on the summit and brow of a picturesque series of low crowned hills, just on the southern verge of these great Plains, where the tillable and settled land begins. It was, consequently, in relation to these wolves, a perfect frontier ; and we had not only fre- quent alarms, but also the privilege and benefit of hearing all the won- derful stories of wolf-adventure, to man and beast, for a wide circle. In- deed, these stories often came back with interest, from the German and Dutch along the Swarta Kill, and Boza Kill settlements, away up to the foot of the Helderberg mountains. A beautiful and clear stream of sparkling cold water, called the Hungerkill, after gathering its crystal tributaries from the deep gorges of the plains, ran through the village, and afforded one or two seats for mills, and after windinsr and doubling on its track a mile or two, rendered its pellucid stores into the Norman's Kill, or, as this stream was called by the ancient IMohawk race, in allusion to their sleep- ing dead, the Tawasentha. No stream in the country was more famous for the abundance of its fine brook trout, and the neighbouring plains served to shelter the timid hare, and the fine species of northern partridge, which is there always called a pheasant. The village was supported by its manufacturing interests, and was quite populous. It had a number of long streets, some of which reached across the stream, and over a spacious mill pond, and others swept at right angles along the course of the great Cherry Valley turnpike. In its streets were to be heard, in addition to the Engli.sh, nearly all the dia- lects of the German between the Rhine and the Danube ; the Low Dutch as spoken by the common coimtry people on the manor of Rensselaer- wyck, itu' Erse and Gaelic, as not unfrequently used by the large pro- portion of its Irish and Scotch, and what seemed quite as striking to one brought up in seclusion from it, the genuine Yankee, as discoursed by iMIikili 160 VILLAGE TRADITION. the mcrenaing class of factory wood choppers, teamsters, schoolmasten, men out at the elbows, and travelling wits. The latter were indeed but a sorry representation of New England, ns wo have since found it. No small amount of superstitions were believed and recited in the social meet mgs of such a mixed foreign population. Accounts of instances of the second sight, death-lights on the meadows and in the churchyard, the low howling of premonitory dogs before funerals, and other legendary wares, to say nothing of the actual and veritable number of downright 'pooks, seen on various occasions, on the lands of the Veeders, the Van Valkcnburgs, the Truaxes, and the Lagranges, rendered it a terror to all children under twelve to stir out of doors after dark. There were in tho annals of Iosco, several events in the historical way which served as per- fect eras to its inhabitants; but none, it is believed, of so striking and general importance as the story of the Mad Wolf, of which I am about to write. There had been found, soon after the close of the revolutionary war, in a dark wood very near the road, pieces of a cloth coat and metallic buttons, and other tilings, which rendered it certain that a man had been murdered at that spot, in consequence of which the place was shunned, or hurried by, as if a spirit of evil had its abode there. On another oc casion. the body of a poor old man of the name of Homel, was found drowned deep in the Norman's Kill, clasped in the arms of his wife, both dead. A gentleman of standing, who ventured alone, rather groggy, one dark night, over the long unrailed bridge that crossed 'be mill pond, pitched upon some sharp pallisadoes in the water, and camu to a melan- choly end. Hormaun, an Iroquois, who haunted the valley, had killed, it was said, ninety-nine men, and was waiting an opportunity to fill his count, by dispatching his hundredth man. This was a greatly dreaded event, particularly by the boys. There was also the era, when a Race Course had been established on a spot called the " Colonel's Farm," and the era of the " Deep Snow." There were many other events celebrated in Iosco, such as the De Zeng era, the Van Rensselaer era, and the Van Kleeck era, which helped the good mothers to remember the period when their children were born ; but none, indeed, of so notable a cha- racter to youthful minds as the adventure of the mad wolf Wolf stories were in vogue, in fact, in the evening and tea party circles of Iosco for many years ; and if one would take every thing as it was given, there had been more acts of braverj^, conduct, and firm decision of character and foresight, displayed in encountering these wild vixens of the plains and valleys by night, than would, if united, have been suffi- cient to repel the inroads of Burgoyne, St. Leger, or Sir John Johnson, with Brant, and all his hosts of torics and Indians, during the American revolution. I chanced one night to have left the city of Albany, in company with ^ VILLAGE TRADITION. 161 one of tlicse heroic spirits. Wo occupied my father's chaise, an old fashioned piece of gentility now out of voyue, drnwn l)y a prime horse, one which he always rode on paraih'S. It was late before we got out of t\w precincls d' the city, and up tiie hill, and night overtook us away in the pine woods, at Hilly McKown's, a noted pnlilicdiouse seated half way between the city and Iosco, where it was customary in those days to halt ; for besides (hat lu' was much respected, and one of the most sensible and inlluential men in the town, it was not thought right, whatever the traveller might n ipiiri', that a /mrsr should be diivi'U eight miles without diawing breath, and ha\ ing a pail of wat(T. As 1 was but young, and le.^s of a charioteer than my valiant companion, ho held the whip and reins thus far ; but after the wolf stories that poured in upon us at McKown's that evening, he would bold them no longer. Every man, he tliought, was responsible to himself He did not wish to be wolf's meat that night, so he hired a fleet horse from our ho.st, and a whip and spurs, and set off with the speed of a .lehu, leaving me to make my way, in the In.'avy chaise, through the sandy plains, as best I could. In truth we bad just reached the most sombre ptirt of the plain, where the trees were more tliiclc, the sanil deep and he;ivy, and not a house but one, within the lour miles. To render it worse, this was the chief locality of wolf insolence, where he had oven ventured to attack men. It was on this routi' too, that the schoolmaster had used his medical arts, which made it bettin- known through the country as the supposed centre of their power. Nothing harmed me, however ; the horse was fine, and I reached home not only uneaten, but unlhreatened by a wolf's jaw. But I must conlino myself to the matter in hand. A large and fierce wolf sallied out of the jiluins one dark siimmer's night, and rushed into the midst of tli(! village, snapping to the right and left as he went, and bitmg every animal that came in his way. Cows, swine, pigs, geese — every species, whether on four legs, or two legs, shared its malice alike. The animal seemed to have a perfect ubiquity — it was every where, and seemi'd to have spared nothing. It is not recollected that there was a single house, or barn-yard in the villai;e. where something had not been bitten. If he bad come on an errand of retri1)Ution, for the great and threaliaiing wolf-parlies which had gone out against his race, and all the occult artsof the schoolmaster in trying to decoy thein at Barrett's hollow, ho could not have dcaU out his venomous snaps more indiscriminately. It must have been about midnight, or soon after, that the fearful visiter came. Midnight, in a country village, finds almost every one in bed, but such was the uproar among the animal creation, made by this strange in- terloper, that oiif of bed they soon come. The cattle bellowed, the pigs squealed, the poultry cackled — there must be something amiss. Santa Clans himself must be playing his pranks. '• A wolf!" was the cry — "a wolf is committing havoc." " It is mad !" came next on the voices of the 11 -«^' 162 VILLAGE TRADITION. night. "A mnd wolf t — a mad wolf!" Notliing but a mad wolf could vcn turo alone into the heart of the village, and do so miicli mischief. Out ran the people into the .ttreets, men, women and all. Some caught up guns, some cliilis, some pitchforks. If tlie tories luid Indians, in the old French war, had hroke into the scttleintiit with fire and sword, ihero could not have been a greater tumult, and nothing hut a mad wolf would have 3tood his ground. Where is he? which way did he run? who saw him ? and a thousand like expressions followed. He had gone south, and south the mob pushed after him. He was away over on the street that leads up from the middle factory. It was a cloudy night, ortiie moon only came out fitfidly, and threw li'jiit eudugh to discern olijects dindy, as the clouds rolli'd bifore it, Iiulistiiict murmurs came on the breeze, and at li-ngih the scream of a woman. The cause of it soon followed. The wolf had bitten Mrs, Sitz. Now Mrs. Sitz was a careful, tall, rigid- faced, waki'fiil !uiiis"wife. from the diitchy of Ilisse D'Armstadt, who had followed the foitimrs of her ImsbanJ, in trying his mechanical skill in the preciuris of Idsco ; but while her husband Frank laid fa: '. asleep, under the influence of a hard day's labour, her ears were open to the coming alarm. It was not long before she ln'ard a tumult in her goose pen. The rabid animal had boinuled into the uiidst of tliem, which created as great an outcry as if Kome had a second time been invaded. Out she ran to their relief, not knowing the character of the disturber, but naturally thinking it was some thief of a neighbour, who wished to make provision for a coming Christmas. The animal gave her one snap and leapt the pen, "INIein hemel !" screamed she, " er hat mein gebis- sen !"' Sure enough the wolf had bit her in the thigh. The party in chase soon came up, and while some stopt to parley and sympathize with her, oihers pushed on after the animal — the spitzbug, as she spitefully called him. By this time the wolf had made a circuit of the southern part of the village, and scampered down the old factory road, by the mill dam, under the old dark bridge at the saw mill, and up the hill by the old public store; ami thu.-- turned his course back towards the north, into the thickest part of the village, where he had first entered. lie had made a complete circuit. All was valour, boasting, and hot speed behind him, but tiie wolf had been too nimble I'nr them. I'nluckiiy for him, however, while the main group pushed behind, just as he was scam pering up the old store hill, ht; was suddenly headed by a party cominq down U. This party was led by old Colonel S,, a revolutionary soldier a field-ofFicer of the coimty militia, and the superintendent of the exten si manufacturing establishment from which the village drew its pros perity. He was armed with a fusil of the olden time, well charged, and having been roused from his bed in a hurry, could not at the momnitfind his hat, and clapt on an old revolutionary cocked hat, which hung in the room. His appearance was most opportune ; he halted on the brow of the hill, a fugitive, I speed, ho inal's him down. 'I but his pi with hatcl 'J'hus f put down did not en and otiier of the lini went ralic a perfect animals w restivenesi 13ut wh WliLthcr Wild Hui througli t Btteuded tl or the aud wolf, I ca fatlings, many yea immediate I.N 01 AN tract of CO race oi' jie a powcnu der the nn Pawnee i provisions " united own live the Little their land, oi'Iiuliaiks the annuit VILLAGE TRADITION. 163 thft hillj and as tlie wolf bounded on he levelled his piece at iho passing fugitive, and fired, lie hud aimed at the shoulders; the fleclness of ita speed, however, saved its vital parts, liut the siiot took t d'ecl in the ani- mal's hind legs. They were both broken at a shot. This brought liim down. The poor creature tried to drag himself on by his fore paws, but his pursuers were loo close upon iiim, and they soon disiwtchcd him with hatchets and clubs. 'J'hus fell the rabid wolf, to bo long talked of by men and boys, anrf put down as a chief item in village traditions. Hut the effects of his visit did not end here. In due time, syuiplums uf uuuhiess sti/cd the cattle and other animals, which had come within the reach of his tettli. Many of the linesi milcii cows were shot. Calves and swine, and even joultry went rabid ; and as tilings of this kind are generally overdone, there was a pcirfcct panic in the village on thr sul'ject, and numbers of valuable animals were duublless shot, merely because they lui])pened to show some restiveness at a very critical epoch. But what, nn'thiidis the render is ready to ask, became of Mrs. Sitz ? Wliriher it wa,<. that slio had lirought over some mystical arts from the Wild Ilunlsman of LJoiiemia, or iiad derived protection fiom the venom through the carefully administered medicines of Dr. Crouse, who duly attended the case, or some inherent influence of the stout iiearted woman, or llie audacity of the bite itself, had prove.l more than a match for the wolf, I caiuiot say ; but ccaain it is, that while o.xen and kino, swine and fatlings, iell imder the viru.s and were shot, she recovered, and lived many years to scold her dozing husband Frank, who did not jump up immediately, and come to hei rescue at the goose pen. I.NUiAN Pi'ssi'.ssioNS. — The Ouoes own, at the latest accounts, a large tract of country on the Big Platte, west of the Missouri : they are a poor race of people, and receive a small annuity of $2,500. 'i'he Pawnees are a poweiiul body, and number about 6,500 persons, dividi 1 into bands un- der the names of Pawnee Loups. Grand Pawnees, Republican Pawnees, Pawnee Pics, &.c. ; they are wild and turtive in their habits, and receive provisions and goods. The Grand Nation is the PoltowaUouiies, or the " united Itaiids of the Chippewas, Ottavvas, and Pottowaltnmies." They own live millions of acres of prairie lands, along the iMissouri river to the Liule Sion.x, number about 2,000, and receive $12,000 a year for their lands sold in Illinois and INlichigan. They are a respectable body of Indiatvs, are good farmers, and educate their children. The payment of the annuhies is always a season of great hilarity and festivity, — iV. O. Pic. .- M Bi!M3 I( is ;i (.■linrnctoriHiic of hooio of tlin Indinii legcniN, tlint tlioy ponvey « murnl wMch HciMiiH cIcMirly cmiiijjil In (Icnnti', lliiit ii |mrl of tlnsi- Irirciids wcrri iiivrllli'il to convey iiistriiulloa Id tlir youii;; IhIUm wIio IikIiii In lliiiii. 'I'lic l.iiowu uUm'iili' III' 111! IuinIi ljii'tli(i(lM iiiiinii|r till- Iiiili'tlii, iir liiiii'^iiiir ii|i tlirir I'liildl'i'li, rnviiiirH tliiN IiI'm. 'I'Ih' 1'i,|. lowing; tiili' iidJn '^Hi'H ithill' phujdy In (rirln ; lo wlioiii jl IimiIhn tlic iiiiiiiiiU< cniiiirlry. Il would mtui Imiii lliis, he was a very sen sitive man, and the thing so preyed upon him, that ho became moody and at last took to his bed. lie was ticitttrn, often lying fiir days without uttering a word, with bis eyes fi.xed on vacancy, and talcing little or no food. From this state no eirjits could rouse him ; he felt abashed and dis honoured, even in the presence of his own relatives, and no persuasions could induce him to rise. So that when the family prepared to talcc down the lodge to remove, he still kept his bed, and they were compelled to lift it over his head, and leave him upon his skin couch. It was a time of general removal and breaking up of the camp, for it was only a win- ter's hunting camp, and as the season of the hunt was now over, and 164 spring b( of their s luft alone roiisiii, \ forest Ih'I died awa liess reigi As 800 ri inott'sit i iindi.'islod or pei&oii Jiiiiiisli rill 'pi.lry, 1.1 iiad dune Fur this ]: tile bits ( oiiiaiiH'iiiii out (d til partially I) gaudy ami mined to lieads, and ili'ii made nrro\v.s, an sc.i relied dried iiiea tilled the fishioned He |)iit a lun ill i,r (ill inobt lavii or the Dii '• F(.llo\ act." lit ein'imipiiit; which he coiiiiteiiaii young, wi he was fu Jiiit no da go kw; invited gm rival. Tb he had bet panying h TRADITIONARY LEGKNOS. 165 spring bcjTiui to nppcnr, tliry all moved of?", ns l)y one impulse, to tlio pl.icn of llieir snniiner vilj:i(,'e, mid in a short tiini-, uU weru >,'onc, and he wns loft nione. The Inst person to leave him wna his [jooii coinjHuiion, mid roiisiii, who has Ijcch uatitionid as also one of th(! admirers of tho forest lu'lli;. lint even //'.< vtiwi: \va3 diMreyardwl, and as soon as iiis .si.113 (lird away on tlio cieakinjf snow, the stillness and solitudo of iho wilder- ness ri'i;;ni'd aroinid. As soon as all were ^''otx', and he could no lani^'er, hy iistenin;,', hear tho rtniotest sounds of tlie dtpartiny rani]), llie Biau-Man aiose. It is In In; nnderstood that this young man was aided by a iiowtrl'iil yuardian sniiit, or [ii.Msoiial Moiieto ; and lie resolved to inalvc use of his iitniot.:l power to liiinisii nnd iunnljle the jrirl. l''or she was noted in the trihe i()r lur co- ipit hy, and had treated others, who were every way her e(inais, as she liad done iiini. He resolved on a singular stratagem, hy way of revenge. For this purpose, he walb'd over the deserted camp, and gathered up all ilie Mis of soiled cloth, clippings of finery, and cast oil" clothing, and oinaineiits which had either been left or lost. These he carefnily picked out (if llie snow, into which some of tliein had been troihbai and partially Iniried. and conveyed llieni to one place. 'l"he molly heap of gaudy and soiled stnlis, he restored to their original beiinty, and deter- mined to make them into a coat and leggiiis, which he trimmed with beads, and linished and decorated after the best fashion of his tribe. lie then madi! a pair of moccasins and garnished them with beaiLs, a bow and arrows, and a frontlet and feathers lor the head, Having done this, he searched about for cast out bones of animals, pieces of skins, clippings of dried meat, and even dirt, and having cemented thcan together with snow, he filled the clothes with these things, and pressed the mass lirmly in, and fishioned it e.xternally in all respects, like a tall and well framed man. I le ])ut a bow and arrows in his hands, and the frontlet on bis head. And having finished it, he brouglit it to life, and the unago stood forth, in the most fivonnd lineaments of his fellows. Such was the origin of Aluowis, or the Dirt and Rag Man. " Follow me," said the Beau-Man, "and I will direct yon, bow you shall act," He was indeed, a very sightly person, and as they entered the new encampment, the many colours of his clothes, the profusion of ornaments which ho had managed to give him, and his fine manly step, and animated countenance, drew all eyes. And be was received by all, both old and young, with marks of attention. The chief invited him to his lodge, and he was feasted on the moose's hump and the finest venison. liut no one was better pleased with the handsome stranger than Ma mon da go kwa. She fell in love with him at the first sight, and he was an invited guest at the lodge of her mother, the very first evening of his ar rival. The Beau-man went with him, for it was under his patronage that ho bad been introduced, and, in truth, he had another motive for accom- lim, for he had not yet wholly subdued his feelings of admira Ml panyi I 166 TRADITIONARY LEGENDS. tion lor the object, against whom he had, nevertheless, exerted all his necromantic power, and he hold himself subject to anj' favourable turn, which ne secretly hoped tho visit migiit talic, in relation to iiimsell'. But no such turn occurred. Moowis attracted the chief attention, and every eye and heart were alert to entertain him. In this ellbrt on the part of his entertainers, they had uell nigh nnealud his true character, and dis- POived him into his original tiemonts of nigs, and snow, and diit ; lor he .vas assigned the most promine.n place before tb"! fire: this was a degree of heat wliich he could by no means endure. To ward it oti' ho put a bov between himself and the fire. He shifted his position frequently, and evaded, by dexterous mancsuvrcs, and timely remarks, the pressing invi- tation of his host to sit up, and enjoy it. He so managed these excuses, as not only to conceal his dread of immediate dissolution, but to secure the further approbation of the fair forest girl, who could not but admire one who 1 id so brave a spirit of endurance against the paralysing eliects of cold. The visit proved that the rejected lover had well calculated the effects of his plan. He withdrew rom the lodge, nnd Moowis triumphed. Bvibre he went, he saw liiin cross the lodge to the coveted abitios, or bride- groom's scat. Marriage in the forest race, is a simple ceremony, and where the impediments of custom are small, there is but little time de manded for their 'xecution. The dart which Ma mon da go kwa had so often delighted in sending to the hearts of her admirers, she was at length fated herself lo receive. She had married an image. As the morning begun to break, the stranger arose and adjusted his warrior's plumes, and took his forest weapons to depart. " I must go," said he, " for I have an important business to do, and there are many hills and streams between me and the object of my journey." " .( will go with you," she replied. " It is too far," he rejoined, " and you are ill able to encounter the perils of the way." " It is not so fir, but that I can go," she responded, " and there are no dangers which I will not fully share for you." Moowis returned to tho lodge of his master, and detailed to him the events we have described. Pity, for a moment, seized the breast of the rejected youth. He regretted that she should thus have cast herself away tjpon an image and a shadow, when she might have been mistress of the best lodge in the band. " But it is her own folly," he said, " she has turned a deaf car to the counsels of prudence, and she must submit to her fate." The same morning the Image-man set forth, and his wife followed hun, according to custom, at a distance. The way was rough and intricate, and she could not keep up with his rapid pace ; but she struggled hard, and perseveringly to overtake him. Moowis had been long out of sight, when the sun arose, and commenced upon his snow-formed body the work of dissolution. He began to melt away, and fall to pieces. As she followed him piece after piece of his clothing were found in the path. 1 TRADITIONARY LEGENDS. 167 She first found his mittens, then his moccasins, then his Icggins, then his coat, and oilier parts of his garments. As tiie iieat unbound them, they had all returned also to their debased and filthy condition. The way ltd over rocks, through winil falls, across marshes. It whirlid about to all points of tlie compass, and had no certain direction or object. Rags, bones, leather, beads, feathers, and soiled ribbons, were found, but she never caught the sight of iMoowis. She spent the day in wandering ; and when evening came, she was no nearer tlie oliject of her search than in the morning, but the snow having now nicliix!, she had completely lost his track, and wandered about, uncertain whicli way to go, and in a slate of perfect despair. Finding herself lost, she begun, with bitter cries, to bewail her fate. "Moowis, Moowis," she cried. "Nin ge won e win ig, ne won e win ig" — that is — .Moowis, Moowis, you have led me astray — you are leading me astray. And witii this cry she continued to wander in the woods. Sometimes the village girls repeal the above words, varymg the expres- sions, till they constitute an irregular kind of song, which, according to the versions of a friendly hand, nmy be set down as follows : — Moowis! Moowis! Forest rover, Where art thou ? Ah my bravest, gayest lover, Guide me now. Moowis ! Moowis ! Ah believe me. List my moan, Do not — do not, brave heart, leave mo All alone. Moowis ! Moowis ! Foot-prints vanished, Whither wend I, Fated, lost, detested, banished, Must I die. Moowis ! Moowis ! Whither ^-oest, Eyp-bright lover. Ah ihnu ravenous bird that knowest, I see you hover. CircJmg — circling, As I wander, But to spy Where I fall, and then to batten, On my breast. •MnAr^MMIMkii •MMiM THE LONE LIGHTNING. AN ODJIBWA TALE. A LITTLE orphan boy who had no one to care for him, was once living with his uncle, who treated him very badly, making him do hard things and giving him very little to cat ; so that the boy pined away, he never thi id lijjht. At grew much, and became, through hard usage, ^ last the uncle felt ashamed of this treatment, and determined to make amends for it, by fattening him up, but his real object was, to kill him Dy over-feeding. He told his wife to give the boy jjlenty of bear's meat, and let him have the fat, wliich is thought to be the best part. They were both very assiduous in cramming him, and one day came near choking him to death, by forcing the Hit down his th-roat. The boy escaped and fled from the lodge. He knew not where to go, but wan- dered about. When night came on, he wfis afraid the wild beasts would eat him, so he climbed up into the forks of a high pine tree, and there ne fell asleep in the branches, and had an nupoway, or ominous dream. A jxTson appeared to him from the upper sky, and .said, " ]\Iy poor little lad, I pity you, and tlie hud usage you have received from your uncle has led me to visit you : follow nie, and stej) in my tracks." Immediately liis .s!(MM) left him, and he rose up and follnwed his guid(>, mounting up higher and higher into the air, until lie reached the upper sky. Here twelve arrows were put into his hand.s, and he was tukl that there were a great many inanitoes in the northern sky, against whom he must go to wai-, and try to waylay and shoot them. Accoidiiigly he went to that part of the sky, and, at long intervals, shot arrow after arrow, until he had expended eleven, in vain attem[)t to kill tin; nianitoes. At the flight of each arrow, there was a long and solitary streak of lightning in the .sky — then all was e!( ar again, and not a cloud or spot coulJ be seen. Tiie twelfth arrow lie held a long time in his hands, and looked around keenly on every side to spy the nianitoes he was aitcr. 13ul these niani- toes were very cunning, and could change their form in a moment. All they feared was the boy's arrows, for these were magic arrows, which had been given to him by a good spirit, and had pow(!r to kill them, if aimed aright. At length, the boy drew up his last arrow, settled in his aim, and let fly, as he thought, into the very heart of the chief of the manitoes ; but before the arrow reached him, he changed himself into a rock. Into this rock, the head of the arrow sank deep and stuck fast. " Now your gifts are all expended," cried the enraged manito, " and I will make an example of your audacity and pride of heart, for lifting your bow against nu;" — and so saying, he transformed the boy into the ISazhik-a-wii wa sun, or Lone Lightning, which may be observed in the northern sky, to this day. , •^ ^ \ 168 if SKETCHES OF THE LIVES OF NOTED BED MEN AND WOMEN WHO HAVE APPEARED ON THE AVESTERN COSTINEXT. CONFESSIONS OF CATHERINE OGEE WYAN AKWUT OKWA; OK THi; WOMAN OF TJIE BLUK-ROBED CLOUD, THE PROPUKTESS OF CHEGOI.1IEG0N, [These confessions of the Western Pythoness were maJe after slie had relin- i]uishei1 theprophoti.' office, discanted all the ceremonies of the Indian Mc(Idwina.ni\ Jesukecwin, and united herself to the Methodist Episcopal church, of which, up to our latest dates, she remained a consistent member. They are narrated in her own words.] When I was a girl of about twelve or tliirteen years of age, my mother told lue to look out for something that would happen to ine. Accordingly, one morning early, hi the middle of winter, I found an unusual sign, and ran oiF, a.s far from the lodge as I could, and remained there until my mother came and lound me out. She knew what was the matter, anrl brought me nearer to the family lodge, and bade me help her in makm ■ ti .small lodge 'of branches of the spruce tree. She told me to remain llure, and keep away from every one, and as a diversion, to ke>;ji nyself i'inj)loyed in ciiopping wood, and that she would bring me plenty of pr,.> |);ired ba.ss wood bark to twist into twine. She told me she would cot^e to see ii\e, in two days, and that in the meantime I must not ev-" tasto snow, 1 did as directed ; at the end of two days she came to see me. I lliought she would surely bring me sometliing to eat, but to my disap- jiointmenl she brought nothing. I suffered more from thirst, than hun- g. r, though T felt my stomach gnawing. My mother sat quietly down and .s'lid (after ascertaining that I had not tasted anything, as she dircetiHl), " I\Iy child, you are the youngest of your sisters, and none are now left me of all my sons and children, but you /o«/" (alluding to her two ehk-r sisters, hersflf and a little son, still a mere lad). " Who," ,s!ie continued, " will take care of us poor wouvn .•' Now, my dau and they fell at my feet. No. t). This was repeat- ed several times, and at each time they fell to the ground. lie said, " wait and do not fear, till I have said and done all 1 am about to do." I then felt diiferent instruments, first like awls, and then like nails stuck into my ilesh, but neither did they give me pain, but like the noedles, fell at my feet, as often as they appeared. He then said, " that is good," meaning my trial by these points. '• You will see length of days. Ad- vance a little farther," said he. I did so, and stood at the commence- ment of the opening " You have arrived," said ho, " at the limityou can- not pass. 1 give you my name, you can give it to another. Now, re- turn ! Look around you. There is a conveyance for you. No. 10. Do not be afraid to get on its back, and when you get to your lodge, you must take that wliicli sustains the human body." I turned, and saw a kind of fish swinnning in the air, and getting upon it as directed, was carried back with celerity, my hair floating behind me in the air. And as soon as I got back, my vision ceased. In the morning, being the sixth day of my fast, my mother came with a little bit of dried trout. But such was my sensitiveness to all sounds, and my increased power of scent, produced by fasting, that before she came in sight I heard her, while a great way off, and when she came in, I could not bi'ur the smell of the fish or herself either. She said, " I have brought something for you to eat, only a mouthful, to prevent your dy- ing." She prepared to cook it, but I said, " Motlur, forbear, I do not wish to eat it — the smell is oflensive to me." She accordingly left ofl' preparing to cook the fish , and again encouraged me to persevere, and try to becojne a comfort to ':.' in hi;r old age and bereaved stat'-, and left me. I attempted to cut wood, as usual, but in the effort I fell back on the snow, from weariness, and lay some lime ; at last I made an effort and rose, and went to my lodge and lay down. I again saw the vision, and eaA pprson who had before spoken to me, and heard the promises of dilferfi-nt kinds made to me, and the songs. I went the same path which I had pursued before, and met with the same reception. I also had anotiier vision, or celestial visit, wliich I shall presently relate. My mother came again on the seventh day, and brought me some pounded corn boiled in snow water, for she said I must not drink water from lake or river. Afler taking it, T related my vision to her. She said it was gorj, and spoke to me to continue my fast three days longer. I did so ; at the end of which she took me home, and made a feast in honor of my success, and invited a great many guests. I was told to eat sparingly, and to take notb'ng too hearty or substantial ; but this was unnecessarj", for my abainence had mad(> my senses so acult-, lUatall animal food had a gross and disagreeable odor. ■f , .i/iMiMf '; m 4 172 PROl'HETKSS OF CIIEGOIMEGON. After the seventh tiny of my fast (slie continued), while I was lying in my lodge, I saw a dark round obji-ct descending from the sky like a round stone, and enter my lodge. As it came near, I saw that it hud small feet and hands, like a human hody. Jt spoke to me and said, " 1 give you the gift of seeing into futurity, that you may use it, for the benefit of yourself aiid the Indians — your relations and tribes-people." It then dej)arted, but as it went away, it assumed wings, and looked to me like the red-headed woodpecker. In consequence of being thus favored, 1 assumed the arts of a medicine VNuiniUi ;ui(l a prophetess; but never those of a Wabeno. The first time i exercised the prophetical art, was at the strong and repeated soli- ciial; 11.=! of my friends. It was in the winter season, and they wcit tlicn eneiiii ned west of the VV'isacoda, or Brule river of Lake Superior, and bfln' en it and the plains west. There were, besides my mother's lu.jly and relatives, a considerable number of families. The)' had h'.'i 1 .^ome time at the place, and were near starving, as they could find no giiiii,' One evening the chief of the parly -ame into my miuhci-'s lodirc. I bail lain down, and was supposed to !h> asleep, ami ho request- ed of my mother that she would allow nie to iry my skill to relieve them. My mother spoke to me, and after some conversation, she gave her con- sent. I told 'hem to build the Jce siik aim, or prophetV lodge, stroiit/, ond gave particular directions for it. I directed that it should consist of li'n posts or sa])lip,gs, each of a diflerent kind of wood, which I named. When it was ihiished,and tightly wound with skins, the entire poj)ulation of the enciun])meiil as.sembled around it and I went in, taking only a small drum. I immediately knelt down, and holding my head near the ground, in a position as near as may be piostrate, began beating my drum, and recitinj!; m} songs or incantations. The lodge commenced shaking violently, lr> supernatural means. 1 knew this, by the com- jjressed current o, .lir above, and the noise of motion. This being regard- ed by me, and by all without, as a proof of the presence of the spirits I consulted, I ceased beating and singing, and lay still, waiting for questions, in the position I had at first assum'' : The first question put to me, was in relation to thi. game, and where it was to be found. The respwnse was given by li,!' orbicular spirit, who had aj)peared to me. Ht; said, " How short-sighted you are ! If you will go in a tcesl direction, you will find gaiue in abundance." :\cxt day the (amp was broken U[,v nnd they all moved westward, the hunters, as usual, going far ahead. They had not proceeded lar beyond the bounds of their former hunting circle, when they came upon tracks of moose, and that day, they killed a female and two young moose, nearly full-grown. They pitched their encampment anew, and had abundance of animal food in this new jiositior. My reputation was established by this success, and I was after- i> awiikc on till mornin had bu fied. burial THE PROrilETESS OF CIIEGOIMEOON. 173 wares noted in the tiiLe, in the art of a medicine woman, and sung the songs whicli I have given to you. About lour years afler, I was married to O Mush Kow J'geezhicli, or the Strong Sky, who was a very active and successful iuaiter, and iiept iiis lodge well supi)lied with food ; and we lived happy. Afler [ hud had two children, a girl and a boy, we went out, as is the custom of the Indians in the spring, to visit the white settlements. One night, while we W( re encamped at the hciul of the portage at I'auwaling (the Falls of St. .MaryV), angry words parsed between my husband and a half Frenchman named Gaultier, who, with his two cousins, in the course of the dispute , drew their knives and a tomahawk, and stabbed and cut him in four or five places, in his body, head and thighs. This happened the first year that the Americans came to that place (1822). lie had gone out at a late hour in ihe evening, to visit the tent of Gaultier. Having been urged by one of the trader's men to take liquor that evening, and it being already late, I desired him not to go, but to defer his visit till next day ; and after he liad left the lodge, 1 felt a sudden presentiment of evil, and I went after him, and re iiewed my elForts in vain. He told me to return, and as 1 had two chil dren in the lodge, the youngest of whom, a boy, was still in ids cradle, and then ill, I sat up with him late, and waited and wailed, till a late liuur, and then fell asleep from exhaustion. I slept very sound. Tlie first i knew, was a violent shaking from a girl, a niece of Gaultier's, who told me my husband and Gaultier were all the time; quarrelling. I arose, and went up the stream to Gaultier's camp fire. It was nearly out, and I tried in vain to make it blaze. I looked into his tent, but all was dark and not a soul there. They had suddenly fied, although I did not at the moment know the cause. 1 tried to make a light to find my luisband, but could find nothing dry, for it had rainetl very hard the day before. After being out a while my vision became clearer, and turning toward the river side, I saw a dark object lying near the shore, on a grassy opening. 1 was attracted by something glistening, which turned out to be his ear-rings. I thought he was asleep, and in stooping to awake him, 1 slipped and fell on my knees. I had slipped in his blood on the grass, and putting my liand on his face, found him dead. In the morning the Inilian .igent came with soldit.'rs from the fort, to see what had happened, but the murderer and all his bloody gang of relatives had fled. The agent gave orders to have the body buried in the old Indian burial ground, below the Falls. INIy aged mother was encamped about a mile off, at this time. I took my two children in the morning, and lied to her lodg;>. She had just heard of the murder, and was crying as I entered. I reminded her that it was an act of providence, to which we must submit. She said it was for me and my poor helpless children that she was crying-^that I was left as she had been, years before, with nobody to provide for us. '^ 174 RULING ciiii:p of the miamis. With lior I returned to my native country at Chegoimegon on Lake Superior. Thus far, her own narrative. Wo hope, in a future number, to givo further particulars of her varied, and rather eventful Hfe j together with specimens of her m-idicine, and prophetic songs. RULING CHIEF OF THE MIAMIS. Died, on the 13th inst. (August, 1841), at his residence on the St Mary's, four and a half miles south-west of this city, John B. llichardville, principal chief of the jNIianii nation of Indians, aged about eighty years. Chief RichardvilU', or " Piskcwah^^ (which is an Indian name, mean- ing in English " wild-cat"), was born on the point across the Maumee river, opposite this city, under or near a large apple tree, on the farm of the late Colonel Coles ; and at a very early age, by succession, became the chief of the tribe, his mother being chiel'tainess at the time of his birth. His situation soon brought him in contact with the whites, and he was in several engagements, the most important of which was the cele- brated .•slaughter on the St. Joseph River, one mile north of this city, designated as " Ilarmar's Defeat," where several hundred whites, under General Harmar, were cut off in attempting to ford the river, by the In- dians, who lay in ambush on the opposite shore, by firing upon the whites when in the act of crossing ; which slaughter crimsoned the river a number of days fir several miles below with the blood of the un- fortunate victims. The Chief is universally .200,000 in specie on hand, and the balance in the most valuable kind of real estate, which he has distributed by " will" among his numerous relations wilh " even-hamled justice." He had always expressed a great anxiety to live, but when he became conscious that thf time of his departure was near at hand, 'le resigned himself with pt>rfeot composure, saying that it was ordered that all nmst die, and he was then ready and willing to answer the call of the " Great Spirit." His remains were deposited in the Catholic Inirying-ground with reli- gious ceremonies. — Fort Wayne (Ind.) Sentinel. JlS OTTOWJ At the in Lake Hi name was fortune of islands by between 1 lake which tion, Lac C vnm (le gii mained bel group of is vorite resid sentinel to Iroquois, t He had wit the shores, canoe ever; upon the s One day ing the bo; should be ( of an exte one, he dir of it ; whi peared sue He wore a accosted going ?" smoke, strength lit to the bun stronger." you shoul tje me na As soon ling began »; THE MAGICIAN OF LAKE HURON. I '^ AN OTTOWA TAIiE BELATED BY NABUNWA IN THE INDIAN TONQUE, TO MB. GEOaSE JOHNSTON. At the time that the Ottowas inhabited the Manatoline Islands, in Lake Huron, there was a famous magician living amongst them whose name was Masswaweinini, or the Living Statue. It happened, by the fortune of war, that the Ottowa tribe were driven off that chain of islands by the Iroquois, and obliged to flee away to the country lying between Lake Superior and the Upper Mississippi, to the banks of a lake which is still called, by the French, and in memory of this migra- tion, Lac Conrtoriclle, or the lake of the Cut-ears, a term which is their nom de guerre for this tribe. But the magician Masswaweinini re- mained behind on the wide-stretching and picturesque Manatoulins, a group of islands which had been deemed, from the earliest times, a fa- vorite residence of the manitoes or spirits. His object was to act as a sentinel to his countrymen, and keep a close watch on their enemies, the Iroquois, that he might give timely information of their movements. He had with him two boys ; with their aid he paddled stealthily around the shores, kept himself secreted in nooks and bays, and hauled up his canoe every night, into thick woods, and carefully obliterated his tracks upon the sand. One day he rose very early, and started on a hunting excursion, leav- ing the boys asleep, and limiting himself to the thick woods, lest he should be discovered. At length he came unexpectedly to the borders of an extensive open plain. After gazing around him, and seeing no one, ho directed his steps across it, intending to strike the opposite side of it ; while travelling, he discovered a man of small stature, who ap- peared suddenly on the plain before him, and advanced to meet him. He wore a red feather on his head, and coming up with a familiar air, accosted Masswaweinini by name, and said gaily, " Where are you going ?" He then took out his smoking apparatus, and invited him to smoke. " Pray," said he, while thus engaged, " wherein does your strength lie." " My strength," answered Masswaweinini, "is similar to tho human race, and common to the strength given to them, and no stronger." " We must wrestle," said the man of the red feather. " If you should make me fall, you will say to me, I have thrown you, Wa ge me no." As soon as they had finished smoking and put up their pipe, the wrest- ling began. For a long time the strife was doubtful. The strength of 175 !^ \ i ■ % h f 176 TAI.KH OK A WIOWAM. Masswiiwi'iniiii wum every laonicnt f?iov\ iiij; liiinter. The man of tlie red li'iitlicr, llKiiit;l» Miial! dl' staturi', luuvcd liimsell" Very active, l)ut im Icn^lli lie was iMili'd and tliiown to the <;r(Mniil. IrMincdiately his advi'- sury iiii'd out, " I have ihrown yon: ira ijc mr iia ;" and in an instant his antat;<»nist liad vanished. On looUin;;lo liic spot winic he had fallen, he discuvt'icd a crooked ear of innniliiiiiiii., or Indian coin, lyin;; on ll.' ground, with liie usual red hairy lassid at the top. While he was <^;\. iiij;' at this stranj;e si<;ht, and wonderin;^ what it could mh an, a voic(! ail- dressed him from the L^rouiul. " Now," .said the speakinj^ ear, for '' .-, \iiici' came fro.u it, " ilivcst me of my covering — !■ ave nothiii'j; to hidt! my hody linn yixu' eyes. Vou nuist then se|)aiate nn- inti> paits, p'jl!- ing oil" my body from the spine upon which 1 j;row. Throw m.- into dilK-rent parts uf the plain. Tlien break my spine and scatter it in small jiicces near tlie edge of the wood.s, and return to visit the place, after one mnon.^^ Massvvaweinini obeyed these directions, and immediately set out on his return to liis lodge. On the way he killed a deer, and on reaching hi.s canoe, he found the boys still isleep, Ih' awoke them and told tliem to cook his venison, hut he carefully concealed from tlirm his adventure. At tlu! expiration of the moon he again, alone, visited liis wrestling ground, antl to his surprise, found the [)lain filled with the Hj)ikes and bl. tiles of new grown corn. In the place where he had thrown tlu; pieces of cob, !• found punipkii' vines growing in great luxuriance. lie con- cealed this ciiftcuv cry uImj, carefully from the young lads, and after his return busied himselt as usual, in \\ alcdiing the movements of his enemies along the coasts of the ivlaiul. This lie continued, till summer drew near its close. He tiien direct(>d his canoe to the coast of that part of the island where ho iiad wrestled w ith the Red Plume, drew up his canoe, bid the lads stay by it, and again visited his wrestling ground. He found the corn in full ear, and pumpkins of an immense size. He jjlucked ears of corn, and gathered some of the pumpkins, wlien a voice again addressed him from the cornfield. " Masswilweinini, you have concjuered me. Had you not done so, your existence; would have been forfeited. Victory has crowneil your strength, and from liencefonh you shall never be in want of my body. It w ill be nourishment for the iui- aian race." Thus his ancestors received the gift of corn. Masswaweinini now returned to his canoe, and informed the young men of his discovery, and showed them specimens. They vero aston- ished and delighted with the novelty. There were, in those days, many wonderful things done on these blands. One night, while Masswaweinini was lying down, he heard voices speaking, but he still kept his head covered, as if he had not heard them. One voice said, " This is Masswaweinini, and we munt get his heart." " In w hat way can we get it .'" said another voice. " You J TALKS OF A WIUWAM. 177 must put yourhfind in his mouth," roplitd tin- first vdicc, "and draw it out that way." MasswUwi'inini still kept quiet, and did not stir. He soon flit thu hand of a person thrust in his mouth. When sufficiently for in, he bit off the fingers, and thus escaptd the danger. The voices then retired, and he was no further moh-sted. On examining the fingers in the morning, what was his surprise to find them long wampum beads, .lyhich aw! held in such high estimation by all the Indian tribes. He had ^hpt, as was his custom, in the thick woods. On going oul to the open shore, at a very early hour, he saw a canoe at asmalldistani 'ompora- rily drawn up on the beach ; on coming closer, he found a u the bows and another in the stern, with their arms and hands e: icd in a fixed position. One of them had lost its fingers: it was evutently the man who hod attempted to thrust his arm down his throat. They were two Pukwudjininers, or fairies. But on looking closer, they were found to be transformed into statues of stone. He took these stone images on shore, and set them up in the woods. Their canoe was one of the most beautiful structures which it is possi- ble to imagine, four fathoms in length, and filled with bags of treasures of every description and of the most exquisite workmanship. These bags were of different weight, according to their contents. He busied himself in , however trans- posed or repeated, and, unlike an English song, precet* "^ the stanza or narrative. CORN SONO. Cereal chorus. Wagemin I wagemin I Thief in the blade, Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid. Recitative. See you not traces, while pulling the leaf, Plainly depicting the taker and thief? See you not signs by the ring and the spot, How the man crouched as he crept in the lot • Is it not plain by this mark on the stalk, That he was heavily bent in his walk? Old man be nimble ! the old should be good, But thou art a cowardly thief of the wood. Cereal Chorus. Wagemin I wagemin I Thief in the blade. Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid. Recitative. W^here, little taker of things not your own — Where is your rattle, your drum, and your bone? Surely a Walkkr so nimble of speed, Surely he must be a Meta* indeed. * A Juggler. — .--H^% CORN PLANTING AND ITS INCIDENTS. See how he stoops, as he breaks ofTthe ear, Nushka I* he seems for a moment in fear ; Walker, be nimble — oh ! walker be brief, Hooh If it is plain the old man is the thief. 1S3 Cereal chorus. Wagemin I wagemin ! Thief in the blade. Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid. ' Recitative. Wabuma!| corn-taker, why do you lag? " None but the stars see you — fill up your bag ? Why do you linger to gazn as you pull, Tell me, my little man, is it most full t A-tia!^ sec, a red spot on the leaf, Surely a warrior cannot be a thief! Ah, little night-thief, be deer your pursuit, And leave here no print of your dastardly foot. TO HEALTH. BY THE LATB JOHN JOHNSTON, ESQ. Health'! dearest of the heavenly powers, With thee to pass my evening hours, Ah I deign to hear my prayer ; For what can wealth or beauty give, If still in anguish doomed to live A slave to pain and care. Not sovereign power, nor charms of love, Nor social joys the heart can move. If thou refuse thy aid ; E'en friendship, sympathy divine ! Does, in thy absence, faintly shine, Thou all-inspiring maid. Return then, to my longing soul. Which sighs to feel thy sweet control Transfused through every pore ; My muse, enraptured, then shall sing Thee — gift of heaven's all bounteous king, And gratefully adore. February 4, 1807. * A sliarp exclamation quickly to behold something striking. t A derogatory exclamation. ( A masculine exclamation, to express surprise t Behold thoM 184 OOMEdTiO AND SOCUf. DOMESTIC AND SOCIAL MANNERS OF THE INDIANS, WHILE ON THEIR WINTERING GROUNDS. The Indian, who takes hia position as an orator, in front of his people, and before a mixed assemblage of white men, is to be regarded, in a measure, as an actor, who has assumed a part to perform. He regards himself as occupying a position in which all eyes are directed upon him, in scrutiny, and he fortifies himself for the occasion, by redoubled efforts in cautiousness and studied stoicism. Rigid of muscle, and suspicious of mind by nature, he brings to his aid the advantages of practised art, to bear him out in speaking for his tribe, and to quit him manfully of his task by uttering sentiments worthy of them and of him- self. This is the statue-like and artistic phasis of the man. It is here that he is, truly " A man without a fear — a stoic of the wood." All this is laid aside, so far as it is assumed, when he returns from the presence of the " pale-faces,'^ and rejoins his friends and kindred, in his own village, far away from all public gaze, in the deep recesses of the forest. Let us follow the man to this retreat, and see what are his domestic manners, habits, amusements, and opinions. I have myself visited an Indian camp, in the far-off area of the North- tVEST, in the dead of winter, under, circumstances suited to allay his sus- picions, and inspire confidence, and have been struck with the marked change there is in his social temper, character, and feelings. And I have received the same testimony from Indian traders, who have spent years among them in these secluded positions, and been received by them as friends and kindred. All indeed, who have had frequent and full oppor- tunities of witnessing the red man on his hunting grounds, concur in bearing evidence to his social, hospitable, and friendly habits and man- ners. Viewed in such positions, the most perfect sincerity and cheer- fulness prevail ; and their intercourse is marked with the broadest princi- ples of charity and neighborly feeling. The restraint and ever watchful suspicion which they evince at the frontier post, or in other situations exposed to the scrutiny and cupidity of white men, is thrown aside and gives way to ease, sociability and pleasantry. They feel while thus ensconced in the shades of their native forests, a security unknown to their breasts in any other situations. The strife seems to be, who shall excel in offices of friendship and charity, or in spreading the festive board. If one is more fortunate than the other, in taking meat, or wielding the arrow or spear, the spoil is set apart for a feast, to which MANNERS OF THE INDIANS. 186 til the adults, without distinction, are invited. When the set time of the feast arrives, each one, according to ancient custom, takes his dish and spoon, and proceeds to the entertainer's lodge. The victuak are served up with scrupulous attention that each receives a portion of the best parts. While at the meal, which is prolonged by cheerful conver« sation, anecdote, and little narrations of personal adventure, the females are generally listeners ; and none, except the aged, ever obtrude a re- mark. The young women and girls show that they partake in the fes- tivity by smiles, and are scrupulous to evince their attention to the elder part of the company. Conversation is chiefly engrossed by the old men and chiefs, and middle-aged men. Young men, who arc desirous to acquire a standing, seldom oflTer a remark, and when they (fo, it is with modesty. The topics discussed at these public meals relate generally to the chaee, to the news they have heard, or to personal occurrences about the village ; ortotleeds, " real or fabulous," of **old lang syne ;" but the matters are discussed in a lively, and not in a grave style. Business, if we may be allowed that term for what concerns their trade and government intercourse, is never introduced except in formal coun- cils, convened specially, and opened formally by smoking the pipe. It seems to be the drift of conversation, in these sober festivities (for it must be recollected that we are speaking of the Indians on their winter- ing grounds and beyond the reach, certainly beyond the free or ordinary use of ardent spirits), to extract from their hunts and adventures, what- ever will admit of a pleasant turn, draw forth a joke, or excite a laugh. Ridiculous misadventures, or comical situations, are sure to be applauded in the recital. Whatever is anti-social, or untoward, is passed over, or if referred to by another, is parried off, by some allusion to the scene before them. Religion (we use this term for what concerns the great spirit, sacred dreams, and the ceremonies of the Meda or « ;f dicine dance), like busi- ness, is reserved for its proper occasion. It di its not form, as with us, a free topic of remark, at least among those who are professors of the dance.' Thus they cheat away the hours in pleasantry, free, but not tumultuous in their mirth, but as ardently bent on the enjoyment of the present moment, as if the sum of life were contained in these ihree words, " eat, drink, and be merry." When the feast is over, the women return to their lodges, and leave the men to smoke. On their return, they commence a conversation on what they have heard the men advance, and thus amuse themselves till their husbands return. The end of all is generally some good advice to the children. The company in these ordinary feasts is as general, with respect to the rank, age or standing of the guests, as the most unlimited equality of rights can make it. Ail the aged and many of the young are in- vited. There is, however, another feast instituted, at certain times 186 DOMESTIC AND SOCIAL during; the season, to which young persons only are it viteil, or admitted, except the entertainer and his wife, and generally two other aged per- sons, who preside over the feast and administer its rites. The object o' this feast seems to be instruction, to which the young and thoughtless are induced to listen for the anticipated pleasure of the feast. Before this feast commences, the entertainer, or some person fluent in speech, whom he has selected for the purpose, gets up and addresses the youth of both sexes on the subject of their course through life. He admo- nishes them to be attentive and respectful to the aged and to adhere to their counsels : never to scoir at the decrepid, deformed, or blind : to obey their parents : to be modest in their conduct : to be charitable and hospitable : to fear and love the great Spirit, who is the giver of life and every good gift. These precepts are dwelt upon at great length, and generally enforced by examples of a good man and woman and a bad man and woman, and after drawing the latter, it is ever the custom to say, *' you will be like one of these." At the end of every sentence, the listeners make a general cry of had. When the advice is finished, an address, or kind of prayer to the great Spirit is made, in which he is thanked for the food before them, and for the continuance of life. The speaker then says, '' Thus the great Spirit supplies us with food ; act justly, and conduct well, and you will ever be thus bountifully sup- plied." The feast then commences, and the elders relax their manner and mix with the rest, but are still careful to preserve ord^, and a de- cent, respectful behavior among the guests. Let it not be supposed, however, that the Indian's life, wliile on hit wintering grounds, is a round of feasting. Quite the contrary ; and his feasts are often followed by long and painful fasts, and the severity ot the seasons, and scarcity of game and fish, often reduce himself and family to the verge of starvation, and even death. When the failure ol game, or any other causes, induce the hunter to remove to a new circle of country, the labor of the removal falls upon the female part of the family. The lodge, utensils and fixtures of every kind, are borne upon the women's backs, sustained by a strap of leather around the forehead. On reaching the intended place of encampment, the snow is cleared away, cedar branches brought and spread for a flooring, the lodge set up, the moveables stowed away, wood collected, and a fire built, and then, and not until then, can the females sit down and warm their feet and dry their moccasins. If there be any provisions, a supper is cooked. If there be none, all studiously strive to conceal the exhibition of the least concern on this account, and seek to divert their thoughts by con- versation quite foreign to the subject. The little children are the only part of the family who complain, and who are privileged to complain, but even they are taught at an early age to sufler and be silent. Gene- rally, something is reserved by the mother, when food becomes scarce, MANNRRS OF TIIR INDIANS. 187 to aatisfy their clamors, and they arc satisfied with little. On such occa- •lons, if the family have gone supperless to rest, the father and elder sons rise early in the morning in search of something. If one has the luck to kill even a partridge or a squirrel, it is immediately carried to the lodge, cooked, and divided into as many parts as there are members of the family. On these occasions, the elder ones often make a merit of relinquishing their portions to the women and children. If nothing rewards the search, the whole day is spent by the father upon his snow- shoes, with his gun in his hands, and he returns at night, fatigued, to his couch of cedar branches and rush mats. But he does not return to com- plain, either of his want of success, or his fatigue. On the following day the same routine is observed, and days and weeks are often thus consumed without being rewarded with anything capable of sustaining life. Instances have been well authenticated, when this state of wretch- edness has been endured by the head of a family until he has become so weak as to fall in his path, and freeze to death. When all other means of sustaining life are gone, the skins he has collected to pay his credits, or purchase new supplies of clothing or ammunition, are eaten. They are prepared by removing the pelt, and roasting the skin until it acquires a certain degree of crispness. Under all their sufferings, the pipe of the hunter is his chief solace, and is a solace often resorted to. Smoking parties are frequently formed, "when there is a scarcity of food not tend- ing, as might be supposed, to destroy social feeling and render the temper sour. On these occasions the entertainer sends a message to this effect : " Come and smoke with me. I have no food ; but we can pass away the evening very well without it." All acknowledge their lives to be in the hand of the great Spirit ; feel a conviction that all comes from him, and that although he allows them to suffer, he will again supply them. This tends to quiet their apprehensions ; they are fatal- ists, however, under long reverses, and submit patiently and silently to what they believe to be their destiny. When hunger and misery are past, they are soon forgotten, and their minds are too eagerly intent on the enjoyment of the present good, to feel any depression of spirits from the recollection of the past, or to hoard up anything to provide against want for the future. No people are more easy, or less clamorous under sufferings of the deepest dye, and none more happy, or more prone to evince their happiness, when prosperous in their affairs- October 29tb, 1S26. PUGASAING; THE GAME OF THE BOWL. Tins ia the principal game or hazard among the northern tribes. It if played with thirteen pieces, hustled in u vessel called oniigun, which is a kind of wooden bowl. They are reprLSonted, and named, us follows. "?1. oooo v. •v: nr The pieces marked No. 1, in this cut, of which there are two, are called (ninewug, or men. They are made tapering, or wedge-shaped in thick- ness, so as to make it possible, in throwing them, that they may stand on their base. Number 2, is called Gitshee Kenabik, or the Great Serpent. It consists of two pieces, one of which is fin-tailed, or a water-serpent, the 188 mmm PUOA8AINO. 189 ; II I a 1 ed •k- on nt. he olhor truncated, and is probnbly dcsi^rncd as terrestrinl. They arc formed wedge-shiiped, io ns lo bo cnpnble of standing on thoir bnsrs length-wise. Each has four dota. Number 3, is called I'ugamiigun, or the war club. It has six marks on the handle, on the rril nulr, and four radiating from the orifice of the club end ; and four marks on the handle of the whiti's'ule ; and six radiating marks from the orifice on the cl.ib-end, miking ten on each side. Number \ is callfd Kecgo, which is the generic name for a fish. The four circular pieces of brass, slightly concave, with a flat sur- face on the ape.x, are called Ozaw&biks. The three bird-shaped pieces, Sheshebwug, or ducks. All but the circular pieces are made out of a fine kind of bone. One side of the piece is white, of the natural colour of the bones, and polished, the other red. The brass pieces have the convex side bright, the concave black. They are all shaken together, and thrown out of the onagun, aa dice. The term pugasoing denotes this act of throwing. It is the parti- cipial form of the verb. — The following rules govern the game : 1. When the pieces arc turned on the red side, and one of the Inine- wuga stands upright on the bright side of one of the brass peces, it counts 158. 2. When all the pieces turn red side up, and the Oitshee Kenabik with the tail atanda on the bright side of the brass piece, it counts 138. 3. When all turn up red, it counts 58 whether the brass pieces be bright or black side up. 4. When the Oitshee Kenabik and his associate, and the two Inincwugs turn up white aide, and the other pieces red, it counts 58, irrespective of the concave or convex position of the brass pieces. 5. When all the pieces turn up white, it counts 38, whether the Ozawd- biks, be bright or black. 6. When the Oitshee Kenabik and his associate turn up red, and the other wnue, it counts 38, the brass pieces immaterial. 7. When one of the Ininewugs stands up, it counts 50, without regard to the position of all the rest 8. When either of the Oitshee Kenabiks stands upright, it counts 40, irrespective of the position of the others. 9. When all the pieces turn up white, excepting one, and the Ozawabiks dark, it counts 20. 10. When all turn up red, except one, and the brass pieces bright, it counts 15. 11. When the whole of the pieces turn up white, but one, with the Ozawdbiks bright, it counts 10. 12. When a brass piece turns up dark, the two Gitsheo Kenabiks and the two men red, and the remaining pieces white, it counts 8. 13 When the brass piece turns up bright, the two Oitshee Kenabiks and one of the men red, and all the rest white, it is 6. 190 PUOASAINQ. 14. When the Gitsheo Ivinabik in chief, and ono of the men turn up red, the Ozuwabiks, bright, and all the others white, it is 4. 15. When both the Kenabiks, and both men, and the three ducks, turn up red, the brass piece black, and cither the Keego, or a duck white, it is 5. IG. When all the pieces turn up red, but one of the Ininewugs, and the brass piece black, it counts 2. The limit of the game is stipulated. The parties throw up for the play. This game is very fascinating to some portions of the Indians. They stake at it their ornaments, weapons, clothing, canoes, horses, every thing in fact they possess ; and have been known, it is said, to set up their wives and children, and even to forfeit their own liberty. Of such desperate stakes, I have seen no e.\amples, nor do I think the game itself in com- mon use. It is rather confined to certain persons, who hold the relative rank of gamblers in Indian society — men who are not noted as hunters or warriors, or steady providers for their families. Among these are per* sons who bear the term of Icnadizze wug, that is, wanderers about the country, braggadocios, or fops. It can hardly be classed with the popular games of amusement, by which skill and dexterity are acquired. I have generally found the chiefs and graver men of the tribes, who encouraged the young men to play ball, and are sure to be present at the customary sports, to witness, and sanction, and applaud them, speaii lightly and dis- paragingly of this game of hazard. Yet, it cannot be denied, that some of the chiefs, distinguished in war and the chase, at the west, can be refer red to, as lending their example to its fascinating power. An analysis of this game, to show its arithmetical principles and powers might be gone into ; but it is no part of the present design to take up such considerations here, far less to pursue the comparison and extension of cus- toms of this kind among the modern western tribes. It may be sufficient to say, from the foregoing rules, that there seems to be no unit in the throw, and that the count proceeds by decimals, for all numbers over 8. Doubtless these rules, are but a part of the whole series, known to ex perienced players. They comprise, however, all that have been revealeu to me. " Gambling is not peculiar to our race, The Indian gambles with as fixed a face." Herodotus says of the ancient Thrftcians — that " the most honourable life, with them, is a life of war and plunder ; the most contemptible that of a husbandman. Their supreme delight is war and plunder." Who might not suppose, were the name withheld, that this had been said by some modern writer of the Pawnees, or the Camanches 1 '•jjgrtfe" :l REVERENCE AND AFFECTION FOR PARENTS. There lived a lioted chief at Micliilimackinac, in days past, called Gitshe Naygow, or the Great-Sand-Diine, a name, or rather nick-name, which he had, probably, derived from his birth and early residence at a spot of very imposing appearance, so called, on the southern shore of Lake Superior, which is east of the range of the Pictured Rocks. He was a Chippewa, a warrior and a counsellor, of that tribe, and hud mingled freely in the stirring scenes of war and border foray, which marked the closing years of French domination in the Canadas. He lived to be very old, and became so feeble at last, that ho could not travel by land, when Spring came on and his people prepared to move their lodges, from their sugar-camp in the forest, to the open lake shore. They were then inland, on the waters of the Manistee river, a stream which enters the northern shores of Lake Michigan. It was his Inst win- ter on earth ; his heart was gladdened by once more feeling the ge- nial rays of Spring, and he desired to go with them, to behold, for the last time, the expanded lake and inhale its pure breezes. He must needs be conveyed by hand. This act of piety was performed by his daughter, then a young woman. She carried him on her back from their camp to the lake shore, where they erected their lodge and passed their spring, and where he eventually died and was buried. This relation I had from her own lips, at the agency of Michili- mackinac, in 1833. I asked her how she had carried him. She re- plied, with the Indian apekun, or head-strap. When tired she rested, and again pursued her way, on-wa-be-win by on-wa-be-win, or rest by rest, in the manner practised in carrying heavy packages over the portages. Her name was Nadowukwa, or the female Iroquois. She was then, perhaps, about fifty-five years of age, and the wife of a chief called Saganosh, whose home and jurisdiction were in the group of the St. Martin's Islands, north of Michilimackinac. The incident was not voluntarily told, but came out, incidentally, k\ some inquiries I was making respecting historical events, in the vicinity. One such incident goes far to vindicate the affections of this people, and should teach us, that they are of the same general lineage with ourselves, and only require letters and Christianity, to exalt them in the scale of being. The first Uords of men, says Harris in his Hermes, like their first ideas, had an immediiite reference to sensible objects; in after days, when they began to discern with their intellect, they took those words which they found already made, and transferred .hem by metaphor, to intellectual con' cent ions. 191 T"w^'*iAn"" 'f >•■!•**•■ *■ " ■^ "■ ANDAIG WEOS, OR CROWS-FLESH. Manv persons among the Indian race, have attracted notice from their exploits on the war-path. Andaig Weos was not among the num- ber of these, or if he had mingled in such events, his deeds of daring are now lost amid the remembrance of better qualities. He was a chief of the once prominent and reigning band of OJjibwa Algonquins, who are called Chippewas, located at Chegoimgon, on Lake Superior, where his name is cherished in local tradition, for the noble and disinterested deeds which he performed in former days. He lived in the latter part of the 18th century. It was perhaps forty years ago — said ray informant, it was while the late Mr. Nolin, of Sault Ste. Maries was a trader in the Chippewa country, between lake Superior and the Mississippi, that he wintered one year low down on the Chippewa river. On his way down this stream, and while he was still on one of its sources, cold weather set in suddenly, the ice formed, and he was unable to get on with his goods. He consequently put them en cache, according to the custom of the country, and proceeded on foot, with his men to the lower part of the river, to the spot at which he had deterraineii to winter. Here he felled trees, and built his house, and having made all things ready, he set out with his men on his return to his cache, in order to bring down his goods. On the way he fell in with an Indian h«nter and his wife, who followed him to the place where he had secreted his goods. On reaching this, he filled a bottle with spirits and gave a glass to each of his men, took one himself, and then '^lling the glass presented it to the Indian. This was done after the camp had been made for the night. It so happened that the Indian was taken suddenly ill that night, and before day light died. Nolin and his men buried him, and then proceeded back to his winterinc^ house below, each man carrying a pack of goods ; and the widow rejoined her friends. After the Indians had taken their credits, and dispersed to their sovpin! wintering grounds, it was rumoured amongst them, that the trader had 192 ANOAIG WEOS, OR CROWS-FLESH. 193 d ch ise, rn red he >ne ,'as lat pf'. led administered poison to the Indian who iied so suddenly after takings the glass of spirits. And this opinion gained ground, ahhough the widow wo- man repeated)}' told the Indians, that the liquor given to her deceased husband was from the same bottle and glass, that all the French people had drank from. But it was of no avail ; the rumour grew, and Mr. Nolin began to be apprehensive, as he had already learnt that the Indians meant to kill him. To confirm this suspicion a party of forty men, soon after, entered his house, all armed, painted black, and with war dresses on. They were all presented with a piece of tobacco, as was customary, when each of them threw it into the fire. No ahernative now appeared to remain to avert the blow, which he was convinced must soon follow. Almost at the same instant, his men intimated that another party, of six men more, were arriving. It proved to be the chief Andaig Weos, from near Lac du Flambeau, n search of a trader, for a supply of tobacco and ammunition. On entering, the chief eyed the warriors, and asked Mr. N. whether he had given them tobacco. He replied that he had^ and that they had all, to a man, thrown it in the fire, and, he added, that they intended to kill him. The chief asked for some tobacco, which he threw down before the warriors, telling them to smoke it, adding in an authoritive voice, that when Indians visited traders, it was with an intention of getting tobacco from them to smoke and and not to thrmc into ihefirf. ; and that, for his part, he had been a long time without smoking, and was very happy to find a trader to supply him with that article. This present fioni him, with the rebuke, was received with silent acquiescence, — no onj venturing a reply. The chief ne.\t demanded liquor of the trader, saying, " that he in- tended to make them drink." The politic Frenchman remonstrated, saying, "that if this was done, he should surely he killed." "Fear not. Frenchman," replied the chief, boldly. " These are not mm who want to kill you: they are children. I, and my warriors will guard you." On those ii^surances, a keg of liquor was given, but with the greatest reluc- tance. The chief immediately presented it to the war-party, but cautioned them to drink it at a distance, and not to come nigh the trader during the night. They obeyed him. They took it a short distance and drank it, and kept up a dreadful yelling- all night, but did not molest the house. The nc.\t morning Andaig Weos demanded tobacco of the still uneasy marchanl voi/agmr, and ordered one of his young men to distribute it to the Indians in the war-dress. He then rose and addressed them in an energetic and authoritative speech, telling them to march off, without tasting food; that they were warriors^ and needed not any thing of the kind ; and if they did, they were hunters^ — they had guns, and might hunt, and kill and eat. " You get nothing more here," he added. " This trader has come here to supply your wants, and you seek to kill him — a poor re- ward for the trouble and the anxiety he has undergone ! This is no way 13 '^^'jv^'^^^^w^nr*^^'^'^'^ i^^^ 194 ANDAia WEOS, OR CROWS-FLESH. of requiting white people." They all, to a man started, and went off, and gave the trader no farther molestation while he remained in the country. On another occasion Andaig Wcos was placed in a situation which afforded a very different species of testimony to his principles and integrity. A French trader had entered lake Superior so late in the season, that with every effort, he could get no farther than Pointe La Petite Fille, be- fore the ice arrested his progress. Here he was obliged to build his winter- ing house, but he soon ran short of provisions, and was obliged to visit La Pointe, with his men, in order to obtain fish — leaving his house and store- room locked, with his goods, ammunition, and liquors, and resolving to return immediately. But the weather came on so bad, that there was nu possibility of his immediate return, and the winter proved so unfavourable that he was obliged to spend two months at that post. During this time, the chief Andaig Weos, with fifteen of his men, camn out from the interior, to the shores of the lake, for the purpose of trading, each carrying a pack of beaver, or other furs. On arriving at the poini La Petite Fille, they found the trader's house locked and no one there. The chief said to his followers. — It is customary for traders to invite In- dians into their house, and to receive them politely ; but as there is nu one to receive us, we must act according to circumstances. He then ordered the door to be opened, with as little injury as possible, walked in, with his party, and caused a good fire to be built in the chimney. On opening the store-door he found they could be supplied with all they wanted. He told his party, on no account to touch, or take away any thing, but shut up the door, and said, "that he would, on the morrow, act the trader's part." They spent the night in the house. Early the next morning, he arose and addressed them, telling them, that he would now commence trading with them. This he accordingly did, and when all was finished, he care- fully packed the furs, and piled the packs, and covered them with an oil- cloth. He then again addressed them, saying that it was customary for a trader to give tobacco and a keg of spirits, when Indians had traded handsomely. He, therefore, thought himself authorized to observe this rule, and accordingly gave a keg of spirits and some tobacco. " The spirits," he said, " must not be drank here. We must take it to our hunting camp," and gave orders for returning immediately. He then caused the doors to be shut, in the best manner possible, and the outer door to be barricaded with logs, and departed. When the trader returned, and found his house had been broken open, he began to bewail his fate, being sure he had been robbed ; but on enter- ing his story room and beholding the furs, his fears were turned to joy. On examinmg his inventory, and comparing it with the amount of his furs, he declared, that had he been present, he could not have traded to better jdvantuge, nor have made such a profit on his goods. ANDAIO WEOS, OR CROWS-FLESH. 19ft arose [ading care- in oil- [ry for iraded le this " The to our then outer open, 1 enter- jo joy. lof his Ldedto These traits are not solitary and accidental. It happened at another line, that a Mr. Lamotte, who had wintered in the Folle-avoine country, unfortunately had a quarrel with the Indians, at the close of the season, just when he was about to embark on his return with his furs. la the heat of their passion the Indians broke all his canoes in pieces, and con- fined him a prisoner, by ordering him to encamp on an island in the St Croi.\ river. , In this situation he remained, closely watched by the Indians, till all the other traders had departed and gone out of the country to renew their supplies, when the chief Andaig Weos arrived. He comprehended the case in an instant, and having found that the matter of offence was one of no importance, he immediately went to the Indian village, and in a loud and authoritative tonp of voice, so as to be heard by all, commanded suit- able canoes to be taken to the imprisoned trader — a summons which was promptly obeyed. He then went to Mr. Lamotte and told him to embark fearlessly, and that he himself would see that he was not further hindered, at the same time lamenting the lateness of his return. The general conduct of this chief was marked by kindness and ur- banity. When traders arrived at Chagoimegon, where he lived, it was his custom to order his young men to cover and protect their baggage lest any thing should be injured or stolen. He was of the lineage of the noted war-chief, Abojeeg, or Wab Ojeeg. He lived to be very old, so that he walked nearly bent double — using a cane. The present ruling chief of that place, called Pezhickee, is his grandson. These anecdotes were re- lated by Mr. Cadotte, of Lapointe, in the year 1829, and are believed to be entitled to full confidence. The Tartars cannot pronounce the letter b. Those of Bulgaria pro- nounce the word blacks as if written ilacs. It is noticeable, that the Odji- bwas and their cognate tribes at the north, not only make great use of the letter b, in native words, but when they come to pronounce English words, in which the letter v occurs, they invariably substitute the b for it, as in village, and vinegar. Tliere are three letters in the English alphabet which the above tribes do not pronounce. They are f, r, and 1. For f, they substitute, in their attempts to pronounce foreign words, p. The sound of r, they change to broad a, or drop. L is changed to n. Singing and dancing are applied to political and to religious purposes by the Indians. When they wish to raise a war-parly, they meet to sing and dance : when they wish to suppli-iate the divine mercy on a sick per- son, they assemble in a lodge, to sing and dance. No grave act is pei^ formed without singing and dancing. ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF THE llACE. WYANDOT TRADITIONS OF THE CREATION, AND OTHER EPOCHS. The following traditions of the creation of man, and of the Red Race ; of the order of precedence and relationship among the tribes, and the no- tice of the first arrival of Europeans on the continent, together wiih the allegories of Good and Evil, and of Civilization and Barbarism, are ex- tracted from a private journal, kept during the period of my official inter- course with the various tribes. Superintendency Indian Affairs, Detroit, January 30th, 1837. A delegation of three Wyandot chiefs visited me, this day, from their location near Amherstburg in Canada, with their interpreter, George C. Martin. Their names were 0-ri-wa-hen-to. or Charlo, On-ha-to-tun-youh, or Round Head, son of Round Head, the brother of Splitlog, and Ty-er- on-youh, or Thomas Clark. They informed me, in reply to a qnesiioji. that the present population of their band, at that location, was eighty-S5s souls. After transacting their business, I proposed several questions to them respecting their origin and history. 1. What is the origin of the Indians? We believe that all men sprang from one man and woman, who were made by God, in parts beyond tlie sea. But in speaking of the Indians we say, how did they cross the sea without ships? and when did they come? and from what country? What is your opinion on the subject? Oriwahento answered : " The old chief, Splitlog, who could answer you, is not able to come to see you from his age and feebleness; but he has sent us three to speak with you. We will do the best we can. We are not able to read and write, like white men, and what you ask is not therefore to be found in black and white." (This remark was probably made as they observed I took notes of the interview.) "There was, in ancient times, something the matter with the earth. It has changed. We think so. We be.ieve God created it, and made men out of it. We think he made the Indians in this country, and that they did not come over the sea. They were created at a place called Moun- 19G ""^^fcwwBSBI WYANDOT TRADITIOMS OF THE CREATION. 197 ■nng the sea ilry > swer It he We not lublv It mrn th«'V loUPI- TAINS. It was eastward. When he had made the earth and those moun* tains, he covered something over the earth, ns it were, with his hand. Below this, he put man. All the different tribes were there. One of the young men found his way out to the surface. He saw a great light, and was delighted with the beauty of the surface. While gazing around, he saw a deer running past, with an arrow in his side. He Ibllowed it, to the place where it fell and died. He thought it was a harmless looking animal. He looked back to see its tracks, and he soon saw other tracks. They were the foot prints of the person who had shot the deer. He soon came up. It was the creator himself. He had taken this method to show the Indians what they must do, when they came out from the earth. The creator showed him how to skin and dress the animal, bidding him do so aod so, as he directed him. When the llesh was ready, he told him to make a fire. But he was perfectly ignorant. God made the fire. He then directed him to put a portion of the meat on a stick, and roast it before the fire. But he was so ignorant that he let it stand till it burned on one side, while the other was raw. Having taught this man the hunter's art, so that he could teach it to others, God called the Indians forth out of the earth. They came in order, by tribes, and to each tribe he appointed a chief. He appointed one Head Chief to lead them all, who had something about his neck, and he instructed him, and put it into his head what to say to the tribea That he might have an opportunity to do so, a certain animal was killed, and a feast made, in which they were told to eat it all. The leader God had so chosen, told the tribes what they must do, to please their maker, and what they must not do. Oriwahento further said : God also made Good and Evil. They were brothers. The one went forth to do good, and caused pleasant things to grow. The other busied himself in thwarting his brother's work. He made stony and flinty places, and caused bad fruits, and made continual mischief among men. Good repaired the mischief as fast as it was done, but he found his labour never done. He determined to fly upon his brother and destroy him, but not by violence. He proposed to run a race with him. Evil consented, and they fixed upon the place. But first tell me, said Good, what is it you most dread. Bucks horns ! replied he, and tell me what is most hurtful to you. Indian grass braid I said Good. Evil immediately went to his grandmother, wlio made braid, and got large quantities of it, which he put in the path and hung on the limbs that grew by the path where Good was to run. Good also filled the path of his brother with the dreaded horns. A question arose who should run first. I, said Good, will begin, since the proposition to try our skill first came from me. He accordingly set out. his brother following him. But as he began to feel exhaustec". at noon, he took up the grass braid and eat it This sustained him, and he tired down his brother before night, who 198 WYANDOT TRADITIONS OP THE CREATION. i entreated him to stop. Me did not, iiowcver, cease, till he had succcssfuliy reached the goal. The next day Evil started on his pnlh. He was encountered every where by the horns, which before noon had greatly weakened him. He entreated to be relieved from going on. Good insisted on his running the course. He su&tained himself 'till sunset, when he fell in the path, and was finally dispatched by one of the horns wielded by his brother. Good now returned in triumph to his grandmother's lodge. Hut she was in an ill humour, as she always was, and hated hitn and loved hia brother whom he had killed. He wanted to rest, but at night was awoke by a conversation between her and the ghost of Evil. The latter pleaded to come in, but although he felt for him, he did not allow his fraternal feelings to get the better, and resolutely denied admission. Then said Evil " I go to the north-west, and you will never see me more, and all who follow me will be in the same state. They will never come back. Death will for ever keep them." Having thus rid himself of his adversary, he thought he would Avalk out and see how things were going on, since there was no one to oppose his doing good. After travelling some time he saw a living object ahead. As he drew nearer, he saw more plainly. It was a naked man. They began to talk to each other. " I am walking to see the creation, which I have made," said Good, " but who are you ?" " Clothed man," said he, "I am as powerful as you, and have made all that land you see." " Naked man," he replied, "I have made all things, but do not recollect making you." " You shall see my power," said the naked man, " we will try strength. Cull to yonder mountain to come here, and afterwards I will do the same, and we will see who has the greatest power." The clothed man fell down on his knees, and began to pray, but the effort did not succeed, or but partially. Then the naked man drew a rattle from his belt, and be- gan to shake it and mutter, having first blindfolded the other. After a lime, now said he, "look!" He did so, and the mountain stood close be- fore him, and rose up to the clouds. He then blindfolded him again, and resumed his rattle and muttering. The mountain had resumed its former distant position. The clothed man held in his left hand a sword, and in his right hand the law of God. The naked man had a rattle in one hand, and a war club in the other. They exchanged the knowledge of the respective uses of these things. To show the power of the sword, the clothed man cut off a rod, and placed it before him. The naked man immediately put the parts together and they were healed. He then took his club, which was flat, and cut off the rod, and again healed the mutilated parts. He relied on the rattle to answer the same purpose as the other's book. The clothed man tried the use of the club, but could not use it with skill, while the naked man took the sword and used it as well as the other. mmmmM WYANDOT TRADITIONS OF THE CREATION. 199 Oi'iwahento continued : — It is said that Evil killed his muthor at his birth. H(3 did not enter the world the rigiit way, but bursted from the womb. They took the body of the mother and laid it upon a scaffold. From the droppings of her deciiy, where they fell on the ground, sprung up corn, tob.icco, and such other vegetable productions us the Indians have. Hence we call corn, our mother. And our tobacco propagates it- self by spontaneous growth, without planting ; but the clothed man is re- quired to labour in raising it. Good found his grandmother in no better humor when he came back from the interview with the naked man. He therefore took and cast her up, and she Hew against the moon, upon whose face the traces ol her are still to be seen. This comprised the first interview ; after a recess during which they were permitted to refresh themselves and smoke their pipes, I returned to the oIHce and resumed the inquiries. 2. Where did your tribe first see white men on this continent? The French say you lived on the St. Lawrence, and afterwards went to the north, from whence you afterwards came down to the vicinity of Detroit That you possess the privilege of lighting up the general council fire for the Lake tribes ; and that you were converted to the catholic faith. Ori- wahento again answered. When the tribes were all settled, the Wyandots were placed at the head They lived in the interior, at the mountains east, about the St. Lawrence. They were the first tribe of old, and had the first chieftamship. The cnief said to their nephew, the Lenapees, Go down to the sea coast and look, and if you see any thing bring me word. They had a village near the sed side, and often looked, but saw nothing except birds. At length they espied an object, which seemed to grow and come nearer, and nearer. When it came near the land it stopped, but nil the people were afraid, and fled to the woods. The next day, two of their number ventured out to look. It was lying quietly on the water. A smaller object of the same sort came out of it, and walked with long legs (oars) over the water. When it came to land two men came out of it. They were different fiom us and made signs for the others to come out of the woods. A conference ensued. Presents were exchanged. They gave presents to the Lenapees, and the latter gave them their skin clothes as curiosities. Three distinct visits, at separate times, and long intervals, were made. The mode in which the white men got a footing, and power in the country was this. First, room was asked, and leave given to place a chair on the shore. But they soon began to pull the lacing out of its bottom, and go inland with it ; and they have not yet come to the end of the string. He exemplified this original demand for a cession of territory and its re- newal at other epochs, by other figures of speech, namely, of a bull's hide, and of a man walking. The first request for a seat on the 200 WYANDOT TRADITIONS OF THE CRKATION. shore, Avns iiinclo he said of the Lcimpccs ; alludingf to the cog^nute brunchea of this stock, who were anciently settled ut the harbour of New York, and that vicinity. To the qiit'stion of their flight from the St. Luwrencp, their seltletni-nt in the north, and their suliseqiient migration to, and sittltineut on, the straits of Detroit, Uriwahento said; The Wyandots weic proud. God had s;iid that such should he beaten and brought low. This is the cause why we were followed from the east, and went up north away to Midiilimackinac, but as we had the Tight before, so wlien we came back, the tribes looked up to us, as hold- ing the coimcil fire * 3. What relationship do you acknowledge, to the other western tribes ? Answer hy Oriwahento: We call the Lenapees, 7;/'/)A<'7r.";; wc call the Odjihwas (Chippewas) Ottawas, Miarnis Jtc. Yotaiger Brulker. We cull the Siiawnees, the Yuu/igrsl Biot/ier. The Wyandots were the fust tribe in ancient times. The first chieftainship was in their tribe. SUPPLEMENTARY QUESTIONS TO THE INTEKPllTEU. 1 1. Are the Wyandot and Mohawk languages, alike in sounds. You say, you speak both. Ans. Not at all alike. It is true there are a few words so, but the two languages do not seem to me more akin than English and French. You know some English and French words are alike. The Mohawk lan- guage is on the longvc, the Wyandot is in the throat. 2. Give me some examples: Read some of this translation of the Mo- hawk, (handing him John's Gospel printed by the American Bible So- ciety in 181S.) He complied, reading it fluently, and appearing to have been acquainted with the translation. Further conversation, in which his attention was drawn to particular facts in its structure and principles, made him sec stronger analogies be- tween the two tongues. It was quite evitlerit, that he had never reflected on the subject, and that there were, both grammotically, and philologically, coincidences be^-ond his depth. • This is certainly a dignified and wise answer ; drKijrned as It wa.">, to cover their disastrous defeat and flif^lit from the St. Lawrence viilley to tlie iiortli. Tlie prece- dence to which he alhide.<<, on reacliin}; tlie straits of Detroit, as iiaviujr l)een tlieirs be- fore, is to be nnderstood, dcmlilh'ss, of the era of tlicir ri'si(h'nce on the lower St. Law- rence, where they were at the head of the French and Indian confederacy n5jaiiist the trnqnois. Among the latter, they certainly had no precedency, so I'ar as hititor^ caches. Their coiaicil lire was kept by the Onondugas. TRADITIONS OF THE ARCTIDES. There are some curious traJitions rclnted by the race of peojilo living on that part of the continent lying north and \vt.'St of Athabasca lake, and the river Uiijisah. iVIackenzie has described that branch of tlit.m, who are called by the trivial name of Che-pc-wyans. This is an Algonquin term, meaning puckered blankets, and has nference only to the most easterly and southerly division of the rare. They are but the van of an extensive race. All that gives identity to their general traditions, and dis- tinctive character and language, relates as well to the Dogribs, the Cop- permines, the Strongbows, the Ambawtawoots, the Hares, the Brush- woods, tlie Sursces, the TacuUies, the Natcotetains, and other tribes lo- cated north of them, extending t) the Arctic Ocean, and west through the Peace river pass of the Rocky Mountains. Philology brings into one groupe all these dialects of a wide spread race, who extend from the bor- ders of the Atnah nation on the Columbia, across the Rocky Mountains oastwardly to the Lake of the Hills and the Missinij)i or Churchill river, :overing many degrees of latitude and longitude. In the absence of any generic name for them, founded on language or character, I shall allude to them under the geographical phrase of Atirrinics. This stock of people have proceeded from the direction of the North Pacific towards the Atlantic waters, in a gnncral eastern direction, in which respejt, their history forms a striking e.vceptioii to the other great stocks of the eastern part of the United States, the Canadas, and Hudson's bay, who have been in a continual progress towards the wi;st and noiitii- WEST The Arctides, on the contrary, have proceeded i:ast and t^oL'TiiEAST. They may be supposed, therefore, to bring their traditions rnore directly from opposite portions of the cniitiiii'iit. and fioin Asia, and it may be in- ferred, from more nntni.xi'd and jiriniitivt^ sou;cis. Some of these tradi- tions are, at least, of a cuiious rw] striking character. Tin y believe, like the more souiImmIv tribes, in the general tradition of a deluue, and of a paradise, or land cf future Hiss. They lave apparently, veiled the Great 201 4 203 TKADITIONa OP TIIR AKCTIUES. Spirit, or creator of the globe, under the nllegory of n gigiintit; bird. They believe, thiit there was origitmlly nothing visible but one viist ocean, Upon this the bird descended from the Hky, with u noifu of liis wings which produced sounds resembling thunder. The earth, us he iiliglited, immedi.ttely rose iibuve llie wateis. Tiiis bird of creative jmiwim-, then made all the classes of animals, who were made out of earth. Tiiey all had precedency to man. Man nione, the Inst in the series, was created from the integument of a dog. This, they believe, vv.is their own origin, and hence, us Mackenzie tells us, they will not eat the flesh of this animal, as is done by tlie other tribes of the continent. To guard and protect them, he then made a magic arrow, which they were to preserve with great care, and hold sacred. But they were so thoughtless, they add, as to carry it uway and lose it, upon which the great bird took his (light, and has never since appeared. This mngic arrow is doubtless to bo regarded as a symbol of something else, which was very essential to their safety and happiness. Indian history is often disguised under such symbolic forms. They have also a tradition that they originally catne from a foreign country, which was inhabited by a wicked people. They had to cross u great lake, or water, which was shallow, narrow, and full of islands. Their track lay also through snow and ice, and they suflercd miserably from cold. They first landed at the mouth of the Coppermine river. The earth thereabouts was then strewed with metallic copper, which has since disappeared. They believe that, in ancient times, men lived till their feet were worn out with walking, and their throats with eating. They represent their ancestors as living to very great ages. They describe a deluge, in which the waters spread over the whole earth, except the highest mountains, on which their progenitors were saved. Their notions of a future state coincide generally with the other stocks. But their paradise is clothed with more imaginative trait.«;. Tiny oelieve, that at death they pass immediately to another world, where there is a large river of water to cross. They must embark in a stone canoe, and are borne along into a wide lake, which has an island in its centre. This is the island of the blest, and the object of the disembodied soul is to reach it If their lives have been good, they will be fortunate, and make it If bad, they will sink ; but they will only sink to the depth of their chins, so that they may be permitted to behold the happy land, and strive in vain to reach it. Eternity is passed in this vain endeavour. They have abo some notion of the doctrine of transmigration. Such are the traditionary notions of this numerous family of the Red Race, which are sufficiently distinctive and peculiar, — and while they resemble in many traits, yet in others they contradistinguish them from the great Algic race of the eastern part of the continent. The most advanced TRADITIONII OF TUB ARCTIPKI 203 branch of llusi irila-s in ihi ir yt^ojira^liiciil position, call ihcrnaelvcs, oa reported 'ly Cupt. I' mldin, IVople ol tlie Wising Sun, or Suw-ersau}' 4innrk. It seems 8ini,Milar, that the further north we go, the greiiter evidences do wu hcliold uf iinajiriiiiition, in the uboiiginul race, together v/ith some fore* shiniuwings of future punishment. HISTORICAL TRADITIONS OF THE CHIPPEWAS, ODJIB- WAS, OR ODJIBWA-ALGONUUINS. >uch ace, mble real need Of all the existing branches of the Algonquin stock in America, this extensive and populous tribe appears to have the strongest claims to intel- lectual distinction, on the score of their traditions, so far, at least, as the present state of our inquiries extends. They possess, in their curious fictitious legends and lodge tale?, a varied and exhaustless fund of tradition, which is repeated from generation to generation. These legends hold, among the wild men of the north, the relative rank of story-books ; and are intended both to amuse and instruct. This people possess also, tlia art of picture writing, in a degree which denotes that they have been, either more careful, or more fortunate, in the preservation of this very an- cient ait of the human race. Warriors, and the bravest of warriors, they are yet an intellectual people. Tlieir traditions and belief, on the origin of the globe, and the existence of II Supremo Being, are quite accordant with some things in our own history and theory. They believe that the Great Spirit created material matter, and lliat he made the earth and heavens, by the power of his will. He afterwards made animals and men, out of the earth, and he filled space with subordinate spirit." having something of his own nature, to whom he gave a part of his own power. He made one great and master spirit of evil, to whom he also gave assimiliited and subordinate evil spirits, to execute his will. Two antagonist powers, they believe, were thus placed in the world, who arc continually striving for the mastery, and wlio have power to affect the fortunes nnd lives of men. This constitutes the ground- work of their religion, sacrifices and worsliip. They believe that animals were created before men, and that they origi- nally had rule on the earth. By the power of necromancy, some of these animals were transformed to men, who, as soon as they assumed this new form, began to hunt the animals, and miUtc war against them. It is 204 INDIAN TRADITIONS. expected that these nnimals will resume their human shnpei, in a future state, and hence their hunters, iuign some clumsy excuses, for their present policy of killing them. They believe that all animals, and birds and reptiles, and even insects, possess reasoning faculties, and have souls. It is in these opinions, that we detect the ancient doctrine of transmigration. Their most intelligent priests tell us, that their forefathers worshipped the sun : this luminary was regarded by them, as one of their Medas told nic, as tlie symbol of divine intelligence, and ihe figure of it is drawn in their system of picture writing, to denote the Great Spirit. This symbol very often occurs in their pictures of the medicine dance, and the wabeno dance, and other sacred forms of their rude inscriptions. Thuy believe, at least to some extent, in a duality of souls, one of which is llesiily, or corporeal, tlie other is incorporeal or mental. The fleshly sou. goes immediately, at death, to the land of spirits, or future bliss. The niLiital soul abides witli the body, and hovers round the place of sepul- ture. A future slate? is regarded by tiiem, as a state of rewards, and not of punislniK'iils. Tliey expect to inhabit a paradise, filled with pleasures for the eye, and the ear, and the taste. A strong and universal belief in divine mercies absorbs every otiier attribute of ihu Great Spirit, except his power and ubirpiily ; and they believe, so far as we can gather it, that this mercy will be shown to all. There is not, in general, a very discriminating sense of moral distinctions and responsibilities, and the faint out-shadowings, which we sometimes hear among them, of a dtep and sombre stream to be crossed by the adventurous soul, in its way to the land of bliss, docs not exercise such a practical influence over their lives, as to interfere with the belief of universal acceptance after death. So firm is this belief, that their proper and most reverend term for the Great Spirit, is Gezlia Moiiudo, that is to say. Merciful Spirit. Gitehy Monedo, which is also employed, is often an equivocal phrase. The term Wiiz- heaud, or Maker, is used to designate the Creator, when speaking of his animated works. The compound phrase Wiiosemigoyan, or universal Father, is also heard. The great spirit of evil, called Mudje Monedo, and Matche Monito, is regarded as a created, and not a pre-existing bting. Subordinate spirits of evil, are denoted by using the derogative form of the word, in sh by which Moneto is rendered Monetosh. The exceeding flexibility of the language is well calculated to enable them to express distinction of this nature. This tribe has a general tradition of a deluge, in which the earth was covered whh water, reaching above the highest hills, or mountains, but not above a tree which grew on the latter, by climbing which a man was saved. This man was the demigod of their fictions, who is called IVIana- bozho, by whose means the waters were stayed and the earth re-created. He employed for this purpose various animals who were sent to dive ' ■n***—- INDIAN TRADITIONS. 205 the ves, So reat nedo, -■isal was but was ma- ted, live k down for some of the primordial earth, of which a little was, nt length, brought up by the beaver, and this formed the germ or nucleus of the new, or rather rescued planet. What particular nlleijories are hid under this story, is not certain ; but it is known that this, and other tribes, yre much in the habit of employing allegories, and symbols, under which we may suspect, they have concealed parts of their historical traditions and be- liefs. This deluge of the Algonquin tribes, was produced, as their legends tell, by the agency of the chief of the evil spirits, symbolizf.'d by a great serpent, who is placed, throughout the tale, in an antagonistical posi- tion to the demi-god Manabosho. This Manabozho, is the same, it is thought, with the Abou, and tiie Michabou, or the Great Hare of elder writers. Of their actual origin and history, the Chippewas have no other certain tradition, than that they came from VVabenong, that is to say, the land of the KAST. They have no authentic history, therefore, but sucii remembered events, as must be placed subsequent to the era of the discovery of the conti- nent. Whether this tradition is to be interpreted as an ancient one, having reference to their arrival on the continent, or merely to the track of their mi- gration, after reaching it, is a question to be considered. It is only certain, that they came to their present position on the banks of Lake Superior, from the direction of the Atlantic seaboard, and were, when discovered, in the attitude of an invading nation, pressing westward and northward. Their distinctive name sheds no light on this question. They call themselves Ofl-jib-wdi^, which is the plural of OJjil)\va, — a term which appears to denote a peculiarity in their voice, or manner of utterance. This word has been pronounced Chippi^va by the Saxon race in America, and is thus recorded in our trcatii'S and history. They are, in language, manners and customs, and other characteristics, a well marked typo of the leading Algcaiquin race, and indeed, the most populous, import;mt, and wide spread existing branch of that family now on the continent. The term Chippewa, may be considered as invelerately fi.xed by popular usaire. but in all disquisitions which have their philology or distinctive cnaracter m view, tne true vern:icular term of Od-jib-wa, will be found to possess advantagi s to writers. The word Algonquin is still applied to a small local band, at the Lake of Two Mountains, on the Utawas river, near Montreal, but this term, first bestowed by tlie French, has long been a generic phrase for the entire race, who are identified by the lies of a common original language in the United States and British America. One of the men curious opinions of this people is their belief in the mysterious and sacred character of fire. They obtain sacred fire, for all national and rcclesi.istical purposes, from the flir.t. Their national pipes are lighted with this fire. It is symbolical of purity. Their notions of the boundary between life and death, which is also symbolically the limit of the material verge between this and a future stale, are revealed in con* 206 INDIAN TRADITIONS. nection with the exhibition of flames of fire. They also make saciifices by fire of some part of the first fruits of the chase. These traits are to be viewed, perhaps, in relation to their ancient worship of the sun, above no- ticed, of which the traditions and belief, are still generally preserved. The existence among them of the numerous classes of jossakeeds, or mut- terers — (the word is from the utterance of sounds low on the earth,) is a trait that will remind the reader of a similar class of men, in early ages, in the eastern hemisphere. These persons constitute, indeed, the Magii of our western forests. In the exhibition of their art, and of the peculiar notions they promulgate on the subject of a sacred fire, and the doctrine of transmigration, they would seem to have their affiliation of descent rather with the disciples of Zoroaster and the fruitful Persian stock, than with the less mentally refined Mongolian hordes. MYTHOLOGY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIGION OF THE ALGONQUINS. TUEtR SYSTEM OF MANITO WORSHIP, AS RECBNTT.T DISCLOSED BY THE CONFES- SIONS OF ONE OF Til F.I R PROPHETS; THEIR LANO UAOES, AND CHARACTER OF TUB TRANSLATIONS OF THE QOSPEL MADE INTO THESE DIALECTS; AND THE LEAD- IKa MOTIVES OF CHRISTIANS AND PHILANTHROPISTS TO PERSEVERE lit THKIB CIVILISATION AND CONVERSION.* It is known that the Indian tribes of this continent live in a state ol mental bondage to a class of men, who officiate as their priests and soothsayers. These men found their claims to supernatural power on early fastings, dreams, ascetic manners and habits, and often on some real or feigned fit of insanity. Most of them affect a knowledge of charms and incantations. They are provided with, a sack of mystic im- plements, the contents of which are exhibited in the course of their cere- monies, such as the hollow bones of some of the larger anseres, small carved representations of animals, cowrie and other sea-shells, &c. Some of these men acquire a character for much sanctity, and turn their influ- ence to political purposes, either personally or through some popular warrior, as was instanced in the success of the sachems Buchanjahela, Little Turtle and Tecumthe. We have recently had an opportunity of conversing with one of this class of sacred person, who has within late years embraced Christianity ; and have made some notes of the interview, which we will advert to for the purpose of exhibiting his testimony, as to the true character of this • Ne» York Lit. & Theo. Review. MYTHOLOGY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIGION 207 class of impostors. Chusco, the person referred to, is an Ottawa Indian who has long exercised the priestly office, so to say, to his brethren on the northern frontiers. He is now a man turned of seventy. He is of small stature, somewhat bent forward, and supports the infirmities of age by walking with a staff His sight is impaired, but his memory ac- curate, enabling him to narrate with particularity events which transpired more than half a century ago. He was present at the great convocation of northern Indians at Greenville, which followed Gen. Wayne's victories in the west — an event to which most of these tribes look back, as an era in their history. He afterwards returned to his native country in the upper lakes, and fixed i\is residence at Michilimackinac, where in late years, his wife became a convert to the Christian faith, and unit- ed herself to the mission church on that island. A few years after, the old prophet, who despised this mode of failh, and thought but little of his wife's sagacity in uniting herself to a congregation of believers, felt his own mind arrested by the same truths, and Anally also embraced them, and was propounded for admission, and afterwards kept on trial before the session. It was about this time, or soon after he had been received as an a^jplicant for membership, that the writer visited his lodge, and entered into a full examination of his sentiments and opinions, contrasting them freely with what they had formerly been. We requested him to narrate to us the facts of his conversion to the principles of Chris- tianity, indicating the progress of truth on his mind, which he did insub- stance,through an interpreter,as follows : •' In the early pari of my life I lived very wickedly, following the Meta, the Jeesukan, and the Wabeno, the three great superstitious ob- servances of my people. I did not know that these societies were made up of errors until my wife, whose heart had been turned by the mission- aries, informed me of it. I had no pleasure in listening to her on this subject, and often turned away, declaring that I was well satisfied with the religion of my forefathers. She took every occasion of talking to me on the subject. She told me that the Indian societies were bad, and that all who adhered to them were no better than open servants of the Evil Spirit. She had, in particular, /owr long talks with me on the sub- ject, and explained to me who God was, and what sin was, as it is writ- ten in God's book. I believed before, that there was One Great Spirit who was the Master of life, who had made men and beasts. But she explained to me the true character of this Great Spirit, the sinfulness of the heart, and the necessity of having it changed from evil to good by praying through Jesus Christ. By degrees I came to understand it. She told me that the Ghost of God or Holy Spirit only could make the heart better, and that the souls of all who died, without having felt this power, would be burned in the firfs. The missionaries had directed her to speak to me and put words in her mouth ; and she said so much that, m w -i ' J ,| -Si m :l Hi 208 OP THE ALOONQUINS. i r r at length, I did not feel satisfied with my old way of life. Amongst other things she spoke against drinking, which I was very fond of. " 1 did not relish these conversations, but I could not forget them When I reilected upon them, my heart was not as fixed as it used to be. I began to see that the Indian Societies were bad, for 1 knew from my own experience, that it was not a good Spirit that I had relied upon, j determined that I would not undertake iojacsukil or to look into futurity any longer for the Indians, nor practice the Mela's art. After a while I began to see more fully that the Indian ceremonies were all bad, and I de- termined to quit them altogether, and give heed to what was declared In God's book. " The first time that I felt I was to be condemned as a sinner, and that I was in danger of being punished for sin by God, is clearly in my mind. I was then on the Island of Bois Blanc, making sugar with my wife. I was in a conflict of mind, and hardly knew what I was about. I walked nround the kettles, and did not know what I walked for. I felt some- times like a person wishing to cry, but 1 thought it would be unman- ly to cry. For the space of two weeks, I felt in this alarmed and unhappy mood. It seemed to me sometimes as if I must die. My heart and my bonos felt as if they would burst and fall asunder. My wife asked me if I was &'clc, and said I looked pale. I was in an agony of body and mind, especially during o/ifi week. It seemed, during this time, as if an evil spirit haunted me. When I went out to gather sap, I felt conscious that this spirit went with me and dogged me. It ap- peared to animate my own shadow. " My strength was failing under this conflict. One night, after I had been busy all day, my mind was in great distress. This shadowy influ- ence seemed to me to persuade me to go to sleep. I waL tired, and I wished rest, but I could not sleep. I began to pray. I knelt down and prayed to God. I continued to pray at intervals through the night ; I asked to know the truth. I then laid down and went to sleep. This sleep brought me rest and peace. In the morning my wife awoke me, telling me it was late. When I awoke I felt placid and easy in mind. My distress had left me. I asked my wife what day it was. She told me it was the Sabbath (in the Indian, prayer-day). I replied, ' how I wish I could go to the church at the mission ! Formerly I used to avoid it, and shunned those who wished to speak to me of praying to God, but now my heart longs to go there.' This feeling did not leave me. "After three days 1 went to the mission. The gladness of my heart continued the same as I had felt it the first morning at the camp. My first feeling when I landed, was pity for my drunken brethren, and I prayed that they might also be brought to find the true God. I spoke to the missionary, who at subsequent interviews explained to me the truth, thn rite of baptism, and other principles. He wished, however, to MYTHOLOGY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RCLTGION 209 try mp. by my life, and I wished it also. It was the following autumn, Ihut I was n.'ceived into the church." We now turned liis mind to the subject of intemperance in drinking, understanding that it had been his former habit. He replied that he hud been one of the greatest drunkards. He had not been satisfied with a ten days' drink. He would go and drink as long as he could get it. He suid, that during the night in which he first prayed, it was one of the fiist subjects of his prayers, that God would remove this desire with his other evil desires. He added, " God did so." When he arose that morning the desire had left him. The evil spirit then tempted him by siiggestinsf to his mind — " Should some one now enter and offer you liquor, would you not taste it .'" He averred he could, at that moment, firmly answer No ! It was now seven years since he had tasted a drop of strong drink. He remarked that when he used first to visit the Iiouses of Christians, who gladly opened their doors to him, they were in the habit of asking him to drink a glass of cider or wine, which he did. But this practice had nearly ruined him. On one occasion he felt the cii'ects of what he had thus been prevailed on to drink. The danger he felt himself to be in was such, that he was alarmed and gave up this prac- tice also. He detailed some providential trials which he had been recently' ex- posed to. He had observed, he said, that those of his people who had professed piety and had subsequently fallen off, had nevertheless pros- pered in worldly things, while he had found it very hard to live. He was often in a state of want, and his lodge w.ns so poor and bad, that it would not keep out the rain. Both he and his wife were feeble, and their clothes were worn out. They had now but a single blanket be- tween them. But when these trials came up in his mind, he immedi- ately resorted to God, who satisfied him. Another trait in the character of his piety, may here be mentioned. The autumn succeeding his conversion, he went over to the spot on the isliind where he had planted potatoes. The Indian method is, not to visit their small plantations from the time that their corn or potatoes are hilled. He was pleased to find that tiie crop in this instance promised to yield abundantly, and his wife immediately commenced the process of raising them. " Stop !" ex'claimed the grateful old man, " dare you dig these potatoes until we have thanked the Lord for them f" They then both knelt in prayer, and afterwards gathered the crop. This individual appeared to form a tangible point in the intellectual chain between Paganism and Christianity, which it is felt important to examine. We felt desirous of drawing from him such particulars respect- ing his former practice in necromancy and the prophetic art, as might lead to correct philosophical conclusions. He had been the great juggler of his tribe. He was now accepted as a Christian. What were his own 14 'ffl (I 210 OP THE ALOONQUINS. i conceptions of the power and arts he liad practised ? How did theie things appear to his mind, after a lupse of several years, during which his o]>inions and feelings had undergone changes, in many respects so striking ? We found not the slightest avoiding of this topic on his part. He attributed all his ability in deceptive arts to the agency of the Evil ^Spirit ; and he spoke of it with the same settled tone that he had manifest- ed in reciting other points in his personal experience. He believed that he had followed a spirit whose object it was to deceive the Indians and make them miserable. He believed that this spirit had left him and that he was now following, in the affections of his heart, the spirit of Truth. Numerous symbols of the classes of the animate creation are relied on by the Indian metays and wahtnos., to exhibit their affected power of working miracles and to scrutinize the scenes of futurity. The objects which this man had appealed to as personal spirits in the arcanum of his lodge, were the tortoise, the swan, the woodpecker and the crow. He had dreamed of these at his initial fast in his youth, during the period set apart for this purpose, and he believed that a satanic influence was exerted, by presenting to his mind one or more of these solemnly appro- priated objects at the moment of his invoking them. This is the theory drawn from his replies. We solicited him to detail the modus operaiuli, after entering the juggler's lodge. This lodge resembles an acute pyra- mid with the apex open. It is formed of poles, covered with tight- drawn skins. His replies were perfectly ingenuous, evincing nothing of the natural taciturnity and shyness of the Indian mind. The great ob- ject with the operator is to agitate this lodge, and cause it to move and shake without uprooting it from its basis, in such a manner as to induce the .spectators to believe that the power of action is superhuman. Af- ter this manifestation of spiritual presence^ the priest within is prepared to give oracular responses. The only articles within were a drum and rattle. In reply to our inquiry as to the mode of procedure, he stated that his first essay, after entering the lodge, was to strike the drum and commence his incantations. At this time his personal manitos assumed their agency, and received, it is to be inferred, a satantc energy. Not that he affects that there was any visible form assumed. But he felt their spirit-like presence. He represents the agitation of the lodge to be due to currents of air, having the irregular and gyratory power of a whirlwind. He does not pretend that his responses were guided by truth, but on the contrary affirms that they were given under the influ* ence of the evil spirit. We interrogated him as to the use of physical and mechanical means in effecting cures, in the capacity of a meta, or a medicine man. He referred to various medicines, some of which he thinks were antibilious or otherwise sanatory. He used two bones in the exhibition of his MYTHOLOOV, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIGION SIl physical skill, one of which was while and the other green. His area* nutn also embraced two small stone images. He affected to look into and through the flesh, and to draw from the body fluids, as bile and blood He applied his mouth in suction. He characterized both the meta or medicine dunces and the wabeno dances by a term which may be trans> lated deviltry. Yet he discriminated between these two popular instU tulions by adding that the meta included the use of medicines, good and bad. The toabeno, on the contrary, consisted wholly in a wild exhibi- tion of mere braggadocio and trick. It is not, according to him, an an- cient institution. It originated, he said, with a Pottawattomie, who was sick and lunatic a month When this man recovered he pretended that he had ascended to heaven, and had brought thence divine arts, to aid his countrymen. With respect to the opinion steadfastly maintained by this venerablef subject of Indian reformation, that his deceptive arts were rendered effec-\ tual in the way he designed, by satanic agency, we leave the reader to \ form his own conclusions. In his mode of stating the facts, we concede t much to him, on the score of long established mental habits, and the peculiarities arising from a mythology, exceeding even that of ancient Greece, for the number, variety and ubiquity of its objects. But we per- ceive nothing, on Christian theories, heterodox in the general position. When the truth of the gospel comes to be grafted into the benighted heart of a pagan, such as Chusco was, it throws a fearful light on the objects which have been cherished there. The whole system of the mythological agency of the gods and spirits of the heathen world and its clumsy machinery is shown to be a sheer system of demonology, refera- ble, in its operative effects on the minds of individuals, to the " Prince i of the power of the air." As such the Bible depicts it. We have not i been in the habit of conceding the existence of demoniacal possessions, jniVit vU'W' in the present era of Christianity, and have turned over some scores of \ ^^S ,iJl, chapters and verses *o satisfy our minds of the abrogation of these things, l'^ • "' ' But we have found no proofs of such a withdrawal of evil agency short J of the very point where our subject places it — that is, the dawning of • the light of Christianity in the heart. We have, on the contrary, found in i the passages referred to, the declaration of the full and free existence of i such an agency in the general import, and apprehend that it cannot be j plucked out of the sacred writings. The language of such an agency appears to be fully developed among the northern tribes. Spirit-ridden they certainly are ; and the mental slavery in which they live, under the fear of an invisible agency of evil spirits, is, we apprehend, greater even than the bondage of the body. The whole mind is bowed down under these intellectual fetters which circumscribe its volitions, and bind it as effectually as with the hooks of steel which pierce a whirling Hindoo's flesh. Whatever is wonderful, ?«- rc'-' ic I'i 212 OF TUB ALOONQUINS. or past comprehension to their minds, is referred to the agency of a spinl This is tii« ready solution of every mystery in nature, and of every ro finernent of meciianical power in art. A watch is, in the intricacy of its machinery, a spirit. A piece of blue cloth — cast and blistered steel — a compass, a jewel, an insect, &c., are, respectively, a spirit. Thunder consists, in their transcendental astronomy, of so many distinct spirits. The aurora borealis is a body of dancing spirits, or rather ghosts of the departed. Such were the ideas and experiences of Chusco, after his union with the church ; and with these views he lived and died, having given evidence, as was thouglit, of the reception of the Saviour, through faith. To give some idea of the Indian mythology as above denoted, it is necessary to conceive every department of the universe to be filled with invisible spirits. These spirits hold in their belief nearly the same rela« tion to matter that the soul does to the body : they pervade it. They believe not only that every man, but also that evsnj animal, has a soul ; and as might be expected under this belief, they make no distinction between instinct and reason. Every animal is supposed to be endowed with a reasoning faculty. The movements of birds and other animals are deemed to be the result, not of mere instinctive animal powers im- planted and limited by the creation, without inherent power to exceed or enlarge them, but of a process of ratiocination. They go a stop farther, and believe that animals, particularly birds, can look into, and are fami- liar with tlie vast operations of the world above. Hence the great re- spect they pay to birds as agents of omen, and also to some animals, whose souls they expect to encounter in another life. Nay, it is the settled belief among the northern Algonquins, that animals will fare bet- ter in another world, in the precise ratio that their lives and enjoyments bave been curtailed in this life. Dreams are considered by them as a means of direct communication with the spiritual world ; and hence the great influence which dreams exert over the Indian mind and conduct. They are generally regarded as friendly warnings of their personal manitos. No labor or enterprise is undertaken against their indications. A whole army is turned back if the dreams of the olliciating priest are unfavorable. A family lodge has been known to be deserted by all its inmates at midnight, leaving the fixtures behind, because one of the fainily had dreamt of ai attack, and been frightened with the impression of Llood and tomahawks. To give more solemnity to his office the priest or leading mcta exhibits a sack containing the carved or stuflTed images of aniinals, with medicines and bones constituting the sacn-d charms. These are never exhibited to the common gazi', but, on a march, the sack is hung up in plain view. To profane the medicine sack would be equivalent to viulatinlic uses. Manabozho may be considered as a sort of terrene Jove, who could perform all things whatever, but lived some time on earth, and excelled particularly in feats of strength and manual dexterity. All the animals were subject to him. He also survived a deluge, which the traditions mention, havin^^ climbed a tree on an extreme elevation during the prevalence of the waters, and sent down various animals for some earth, out of which he re-created the globe. The four cardinal points are so many demi-goils, of whom the West, called Kabeun, has priority of age. The East, North and South are deemed to be his sons, by a maid who incautiously exposed herself to the west wind. Iagoo (lagoo) is the god of the marvellous, and many most extravagant tales of forest and domestic adventure are heaped upon him. Kw.\sind is a sort of Sam on, who threw a huge mass of rock such as the Cy- clops ca.st at Mentor. Weesg isthe god of sleep, who is represented to have numerous small emissaries at his service, reminding us ot Pope's -•i^ UlU OF Tim ALOO.NQl'liNn. creation of gnomos. Tlieae tniiiulc rtnisisarics cliiiib up thn furehcndf and wielding ii tiny club, knock individiiuls to .<rance and coura^i'oiis ailventure, form tbe leading tojjics of tlieir mental ellbrls. Tbe.se are deemed I bo appropriate tbemes of men, sages and warriors. Dut ibeir intellectuitl essays bave also a domestic tbeatrc of exbibitiun. It is bere tbut tbo Indian mind unbends itself and reveals some of its less obvious traits. Tbeir public s|)i'akers cultivate a particular brancb of oratory. 'I'hey are careful in tbu use of words, und are regardid as standards of purity in tbe language. Tlley appear to bave an accurati! ear for sounds, and deliy;bt in rounding olf a period, for wbicb tbe languages allbrd great fa- cilities, by tbeir long and stately words, and midlil'onn inllexions. A drift of tbougbt — an elevation of style, is ob.servable in tbeir puldic speak- ing wbicb is dropt in private conversation. Voice, attitude and motion, are deemed of the highest conse'|uonee. Much of tbe iiu'aning of their expressions is varied by tbe vehement, subdued, or prolonged tone in which they are uttered. In private conversation, on tbe contrary, all is altered. There is an equanimity of tone, and eu.sy vein of narration or dialogue, in which the power of mimicry is most strikingly brought out. The very voice and words of the suppos.d speakers, in tbeir ficti- tious legends, are assumed. Fear, supplication, timidity or boasting, are exactly depicted, and tbe deepest int(!rest excited. All is ease and freedom from restraint, 'i'here is nothing of the coldness or severe for- mality of the council. The jdpe is put to its ordinary use, and all its symbolic sanctity is laid aside with tbe wampum belt and the often reiter- ated stale epithets, '* Nosa" and " Kosinan," i, e. m>j father and nurfitther. Another striking trait of tbe racf is found in tbeir legends and talcs, Thoss of the aboriginal race who excel in private conversation, become to their tribes oral chroniclers, and are relied on for bistorical tnditions as well as tales. It is necessary, in listening (o them, to distinguish between the go.ssip and the historian, the narrator of real events, and of nursery tales. For they gather together everything from the fabu- lous feats of Manebozho and Mis.'^hozha, to tbe hair-breadth e.scapes of a I'ontiac, or a Black M.nvk. These narrators are generally men of a good memory and a certain degree of humor, who bave experienced vicissitudes, and are cast into the vale of years. In the rehearsal of tbeir tales, transformations and transmigrations are a part of the machinery relied on; and some of them are as accurately adapted to (be purposes of amusement or instruction, as if Zoroaster or Ovid himself had been MYTHOLOGY, 8LTi:usriTI().\», AM) tllUJOION 217 ConsuUi il ill tlieir production. Many ohji'ct.i in llu! innnlinatn crrnlion, ttccoiilin;^ lo liii'su talcs, wiTc originally im-ii uiui woiiicn. And nuine- ruu8 uiiiiiia!:i lintl olIuT fonnti in their lirnt stiigrs of fxistcnco, which they, as wi'll uu human beings, foilVilod, hy the jiowor of ni'croinanoy unJ transinignition. The evening star, it is fabled, wum formerly a woman. An ambitious boy beciiine onct of the plannts. Three brothers, travel- ling in u canoe, were translated into a group of stars. The fo.v, lynx, hure, robin, eagle and numerous other species, retain places in the In* dian Ky.stein of astronomy. Ti>e mouse obtained celestial elevation by creeping up the rainbow, which Indian story makes a flos.sy mass of bright threads, and by the power of gnawing them, he relieved a cuplive in the sky. It is a coincidence, which wu note, that vraa major is called by them the bear. These legends arc not confined to the sky alone. The earth also is a fruitful theatre of transformations. The wolf was formerly a boy, who, being neglected by liis parents, was transformed into this animal. A shell, lying on the shore, was transformed to tlie raccoon. The brains of an adulteress were converted into the aildikumaig, or w Kite fish. The power of transformation was variously exercised. It most com- monly existed in magicians, of whom Abo, Manabosh or Manabozha, and Mi.^liosha, retain much celebrity. The latter possessed a niogic canoo which would rush forward through the woter on the utterance of a charm, with a speed that would outstrip the wind. Hundreds of miles wcro performed in as many minutes. The charm which he uttered, consisted of ft mono.syllable, containing one consonant, which does not belong to the hinguage ; and this word has no definable meaning. So tluit the language of magic and demonology has one feature in common in all ages and with every nation. Man, in his common shape, is not alone the subject of their legends. The intellectual creations of the Indians admit of the agency of giants and fairies. Anak and his progeny could not have created more alarm in the minds of the ten faithless spies, than do the race of fabulous Weendigos to the Indian tribes. These giants are represented as canni- bals, who ate up men, women and children. Indian fairies are of two classe.s, distinguished as the place of their revels is either the land or water. Land-fairies are imagined to choose their residences about pro- montories, water-falls and solemn groves. The water, besides its appro- priate cla.ss of aquatic fairies, is supposed to be the residence of a race of beings called Nil)anaba which have their analogy, except as to sex, in the mermaid. Tb' l;.dian word indicates a male. Ghosts are the ordi- nary machinery in their tales of terror and mystery. There is, perhaps, a gliinmering of the idea of retributive justice in the belief that ghosta and spirits are capable of existing in fire. INDIAN ARROW HEADS, &c. By far the most numerous relics of the Red Race, now found in those parts of our country from which it h;is disappeared, are the small ^tc■noJ with which they headed their arrows. Beini,' made of the most dural le substances, they have generally remained in the soil, unafiected by time and the changes of season. They most abound in those rich me;iJ.owf« which bolder some of our rivers, and in other spots of peculiar feriilily, though of less extent, where the pasture, or other attractions, collected game for the Red men. The stones most commonly used were quartz and flint, which were preferred on account of the facility of shaping them, the keenness of the points and edges, which they readily present under the blows of a skilful manufact'irer, as well as their superior hard- ness and imperishable nature. Muhitudes of specimens still exist, which show the various forms and sizes to which the Red men reduced stones of these kinds: and they e::cite our admiration, by their perfect state of pre- servation, as well by the skilfulncss of their manufacture. Other stones, however, were not unfrequenlly used : and a collection which we have been making for many years, presents a considerable variety of materials, as well as of sizes, shapes and colors. Hard sand- stone, trap or graacko, jasper and chalcedony, appear occasionally; some almost transparent. One of the larger size is made of steatite, and smooth, as if cut or scraped with a knife, contrary to the common method, of gradually chipping ofT small fragments of more brittle stone, by light blows often repeated. These arrow heads were fastened to the shaft, by inserting the butt into the split end, and tying round it a string of deer's sinews. A groove or depression is commonly observable in the stone, designed to receive the string. But it is sometimes difTicult to imagine how the f istening was effected, as some perfect arrow-heads show no suc'n depressions, and their forms are not well adapted to such a purpose. This peculiarity, however, is most frequently to be observed in specimens of small size, the larger, and especially such as are commonly supposed to have been the heads of spears, being usually well shaped for tying. I', is remarkable that some spots have been found, where such relics were surprizingly numerous. In Hartford, Connecticut, about thirty years ago, many were picked up in a garden, at the corner of Front and Mill streets. The spot was indeed on the bank of the Liule River, pro- bably at the head of Indian Canoe navigation : but yet no rational con- jecture could be formed, to account for tlie discovery, except one. It was con- cluded that the place was an ancient burying ground. Many bits of coarse earthen-ware were found, such as are common in many parts of the coun- try. About two "liles below Middlelown, Connecticut, on the slope of n 218 INDIAN ARROW HEADS, ETC. 219 hill on the southern side of the Narrows, we discovered, some years since, a great number of small fragments of white quartz, scattered thickly over the surfice of the ground, perhaps for half an acre. Among them were several arrow heads of various forms, most of them imperfect, and many pieces of stone, which at first sight resembled them, but, on closer inspec- tion, seemed to have been designed for arrow heads, but spoiled in the milking. Some had one good edge, or a point or barb, while the other paits of the same stones showed only the natural form and fracture. In many in- stances, it was easy to see that the workman might well have been discour- aged from proceeding any farther, by a flaw, a break or the nature of the stone. Our conclusion was, that the spot had long been a place where Indian arrow heads were made, and that we saw around us the refuse fragments rejected by the workmen. Other spots have been heard of resembling this. If such relics were found nowhere else but in our own country, they would be curious, and worthy of preservation and attention : but it is an interesting fact, not however generally known, that they exist in many other p;irts of the world. Stone arrow and spear heads have been found in England for hundreds of years, and are believed to have been made and used by the Britons, who, in respect to civilization, were nearly on a level with our Indians. These relics are called by the common people Celts, from the race whose memory they recal ; and particular accounts of them are given, with drawings, in several antiquarian works. They bear a striking resemblance to our Indian arrowheads; and many of them could be hardly, if at all, distinguished from those of America. African arrows have been brought to this country, in which the points were of the same forms and materials, and fastened in the same manner, A-bout twelve years ago a vessel from Stonington was attacked by a party of Patagoniuns, who threw arrows on board. One of these which we procured, was pointed with a head of milky quartz, exactly corresponding with specimens picked up in New England. Among the relics found in e.Kcavating the low mounds on the plain of Mirathon, as we were informed by one of our countrymen, who was at Athens some years ago, there were spear heads made of flint, which, he declared, were like those he had often seen ploughed up in his native fields. These, it was conjectured, might have been among the weapons of some of the rude Scythians iu the Persian army, which met its defeat on that celebrated battle ground. A negro, from an obscure group of islands, just north of New Guinea, in describing the weapons in use among his countrymen, drew the forms of spear heads, which he said were often made of stones ; and, when shown specimens from our collection, declared that they were very much like them. It has been thought, that certain instruments would naturally be iuven Z-2[} INDIAN ARROW HEADS, ETC. ted by mm in particular states of society and under certain circumstancps, as the result of their wants and the means at hand to supply them. It ia not, however, always easy to reconciii; this doctiine with fu':ts. For ex- ample, the hiack race of the islands north of Now Holland, (of which so little is ycf known,) appear to require the use of the bow as much as any other savage people, yet they arc entirely ignorant of it, though it has Ix'en thought one of the simple, most natural and most indispensable instruments in such a condition of society. We are therefore left in doubt, in the present state of our knowledge, whether the manufacture and use of stone arrow heads have been so ex- tensively diffused over the globe liy repeated inventions, or by an inter- course between portions of the human race long since ceased, or by both causes. To whichever of these opinions we may incline, the subject must still appear to us wovthy of investigation, as the history of these relics must necessarily be closely connected with that of difleient families and races of men in every continent and in every zone. We would invite particular attention to the position and circumstances of Indian remains which may hereafter be found; and would e.xpre'ss a wisii that they might be recorded and made known. Our newspapers ofTer a most favorable vehicle for the communication of such discoveries and observations, and our editors generally must have taste and judgment enough to give room for them. it was remarked in some of our publications a few years ago, that no unequivocal remains of the Red men had yet been discovered in the earth, below the most recent strata of soil, excepting cases in which they had been buried in graves, «Si,c. Perhajis later observations may furnish evi- dence of the longer presence of that race on our continent than such a stateirient countenances. One of the most interesting objects of enquiry, with some antiquaries, is whether there are any ancient indications of Alphabetical writing in our continent. A small stone found in the Grave-Creek Mound, and others of a more doubtful character, are quite sufncient to awaken interest and stimulate enquiry. A few specimens of rude sculpture and drawing have been found in dilferent pans oi the U. States ; and shells, ornaments, «&c., evidently brought from great distances. There may be others, known to individu- als, of which antiquaries are not aware. After peuising the foregomg pages. It will be easy to realize that all such remains may be vvorthy of attention. Not only copies should be made and dimensions taken, but descriptions should be written, local information and traditions collected, measures taken to preserve the originals, and some notice given which may reach persons interested in such subjects. — JS. nstancrs, in. It 13 For e.v ivhich so li as any rli it has spcnsable lowlcdge, !en so ex- an inter- r by both le subject f of these it families umstanccs express a ewspnpers liscoverics juJginenJ that no le earth, t)ey had rnish evi- an such a tiquarics, riting in ninJ, and n interest found in evidently individu- breofoing worthy of :;ikeii, but collected, en which INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. No. I. The North American tribes have the elements of music and poetry. T lieir war songs frequontly coiit.ua flights of the finest heroic sentiment, clothed in poetic imagery. And numbers of the addresses of the spealc crs. both occasional and public, abound in eloquent and poetic thought. *' We would anticipate eloquence," observes a modern American writer, " from an Indian. He has animating remembrances — a poetry of lan- guage, which exacts rich and apposite metaphorical allusions, even for ordinary conversation — a mind which, like his body, has never been trammelled and mechanized by the formalities of society, and passions which, from the very outward restraint imposed upon them, burn more fiercely within."' Yet, it will be found that the records of our litera- ture, scattered as they are, in periodicals and ephemeral publications, rather than m works of professed research, are meagre and barren, on these topics. One of the first things wc hear of the Indians, after their discovery, is their proneness to singing and dancing. But however char- acteristic these traits may be, and we think they are eminently so, it has fallen to the lot of but few to put on record specimens, which may be ap- pealed to, as evidences of the current opinion, on these heads. With fa- vourable opoortunitics of observation among the tribes, we have but to ada our lestimony to tne diflicuhies of making collections in these depart- ments, which shall not compromit t.he intellectual character of the tribes, whose efforts are always oral, and very commonly extemporaneous. These difficulties arise from the want of suitable interpreters, the remote- ness of the points at which observations must be made, the heavy demands made upon hours of leisure or business by such inquiries, and the incon- venience of making notes and detailed memoranda on the spot. The little that it is in our power to offer, will therefore be submitted as contri billions to an inquiry which is quite in its infancy, and rather with the hope of exciting others to future labours, than of gratifying, to any extent, an enlightened curiosity on the subject. Dancing is both an amusement and a religious observance, among the American Indians, and is known to constitute one of the most wide spread traits in their manners and customs. It is accompanied, in all cases, with singing, and, omitting a few cases, with the beating of time on instru- ments. Tribes the most diverse in language, and situated at the greatest distances apart, concur in this. It is believed to be the ordinary mode of expressing intense passion, or fueling on any subject, and it is a custom 221 222 INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. which has been persevered in, witli the least variation, through nil the phases of their history, and probably exists among the remote tribes, pre- cisely nt this time, as it did in the era of Columbus. It is observed to be the last thing abandoned by bands and individuals, in their progress to civilization and Christianity. So true is this, that it may be regarded as one of the best practical proofs of their advance, to find the native in- struments and music thrown by, and the custom abandoned. Every one has heard of the war dance, the medicine dance, the wabeno dance, the dance of honour (generally called the begging dance,) and various others, each of which has its appropriate movements, its air, and its words. There is no feast, and no religious ceremony, among them, which is not attended with dancing and songs. ThanUs are thus ex- pressed for success in hunting, for triumphs in war, and for ordinary providential cares. Public opinion is called to pressing objects by a dance, at which addresses are made, and in fact, moral instructions and advice are given to the young, in the course of their being assembled nt social feasts and dances. Dancing is indeed the common resource, when- ever the mass of Indian mind is to be acted on. And it thus stands viewed in its necessary connection with the songs and addresses, in the room of the press, the newspaper, and the periodical. The priests and prophets have, more than any other class, cultivated their national songs and dances, and may be regarded as the skalds and poets of the tribes. They are generally the composers of the songs, and the leaders in the dance and ceremonies, and it is found, that their memories are the best stored, not only with the sacred songs and chants, but also with the tradi- tions, and general lore of the tribes. Dancing is thus interwoven throughout the whole texture of Indian so- ciety, so that there is scarcely an event important or trivial, private or public, which is not connected, more or less intimately, with this rite. The instances where singing is adopted, without dancing, are nearly con- fined to occurrences of a domestic character. Among these, are wails for the dead, and love songs of a simple and plaintive character. Maternal affection evinces itself, by singing words, to a cheerful air, over the slum- bers of the child, which, being suspended in a kind of cradle receives, at the same time avibratory motion. Children have likewise certain chants, which they utter in the evenings, while playing around the lodge door, or at other seasons of youthful hilarity. Some of the Indian fables are in the r.hape of duets, and the songs introduced in narrating their ficti- lious tales, are always sung in the recital. Their instruments of music are few and simple. The only wind in- strument existing among them is the Pibbegwon, a kind of flute, resem- bling in simplicity the Arcadian pipe. It is commonly made of two semi- cylindrical pieces of cedar, united with fish glue, and having a snake skin, in a wet state, drawn tightly over it, to prevent its cracking. The holes I INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, ANli POETRY. 223 h nil the ibcs, pre- yed to be ogress to 5a riled as native in- le wnbeno ncc,) and 3 air, and ing tbem, ! thus ex- ordinary ccts by a itions and iembled iit rco, when- lus stands ses, in the )riests and anal songs the tribes. ers in the e the best the tradi- ndian so- private or this rite, early con- wails for Maternal the sluni- oceivcs, at in chants, )dge door, ables are their ficti- wind in- ite, rescm- two scmi- nakeskin, The holes are eight in number, and are perforated by means of a bit of heated iron. It is blown like the flagolet, and has a similar orifice or inoutn piece. The TAYWAEciu.v, (struck-sounl-instrument,) is a tamborine, or one- headed drum, and is made by adjusting u skin to one end of the suction of a moderate sized hollow tree. When a heavier sound is required, a tree of larger circumference is chosen, and both ends closed with skins. The latter is called Mittigwukeek. i. e. Wood-Ketlle-Drum, and is appro- priately used iu religious ceremonies, but is not, perhaps, confined to this occasion. To these may be added a fourth instrument, called the Siieshegwon, or Rattle, which is constructed in various ways, according to the purpose or means of the maker. Sometimes it is made of animal bladder, from which the name is derived, sometimes of a wild gourd ; in others, by at- taching the dried hoofs of the deer to a stick. This instrument is em- ployed both to mark time, and to produce variety in sound. the ORAL COMPOSITION, ian sonffs are, it is found t( Common as tne Indian songs are, it is louna to De no ordinary sition to obtain accurate specimens of them. Even after the difficuhies of the notation have been accomplished, it is not easy to satisfy the re- quisitions of a correct taste and judgment, in their e-thibition. There is always a lingering fear of misapprehension, or misconception, on the part of the interpreter — or of some things being withheld by the never sleep- ing suspicion, or the superstitious fear of disclosure, on the part of the Indian. To these must be added, the idiomatic and imaginative peculiari- ties of this species of wild composition — so very different from every no- tion of English versification. In the first place there is no unity of theme, or plot, unless it be that the subject, war for instance, is kept in the singer's mind. In the ne.\t place both the narration and the description, when introduced, is very imperfect, broken, or disjointed. Prominent ideas flash out, and are dropped. These are often most striking and beauti- ful, but we wait in vain for any sequence. A brief allusion — a shining symbol, a burst of feeling or passion, a fine sentiment, or a bold assertion, come in as so many independent parts, and there is but little in the com- position to indicate the leading theme which is, as it were, kept in mental reserve, by the singer. Popular, or favourite e.xpressions are often re- peated, often transposed, and often e.\hibited with some new shade of moaning. The structure and fle."cibility of the language is highly favour- aoie to this kind of wild improvisation. But it is difRcult to transl.ite, and next to impossible to preserve its spirit. Two languages more unlike in nil tlii'ir leading characteristics, than the English and the Indian were never brought into contact. The one monosyllabic, and nearly without mflections — the other polysyllabic, poiysynthetic and so full of in/lections 224 INDI 4N MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. •i-i. of every imaginative kind, os to be coinplttoly tiansfositivc — the one fi'om tlie north of Europe, the other, probably, from Contral Asia, it would seem tiiat tliese (iimilies of ilio human race, had not wamhrtd uiler npart, in their location, than they have in the sounds of their language, ihc accidence of their grammar and the definition of their words. So that to find equivalent single words in translation, appears often as hope- less as the quadrature of the ciicle. The great store-house of Indian imagery is the heavens. The clouds^ the planets, the sun. and moon, the piienoinena of lightning, thunder, elec- tricity, aerial sounds, electric or atmospheric, and the endless variety pro- duced in the heavens by light and shade, and by elemental action, — these constitute the fruitful themes of allusion in their songs and poetic chants. But they are mere allusions, or broken description, like touches on the canvass, without being united to produce a perfect object. The strokes may be those of a master, and the colouring exquisite ; but without the art to draw, or the skill to connect, it will still remain but a shapeless mass In war excursions great attention is paid to the flight of birds, particularly those of the carnivorous species, which are deemed typical of war and bra- very, and their wing and tail feathers are appropriated as marks of honor, by the successful warrior. When the minds of a war party have been roused up to the subject, and they are prepared to give utterance to their feelings by singing and dancing, they are naturally led to appeal to the agency of this class of birds. Hence the frequent allusions to them, in their songs. The following stan.-^a is made up of expressions brought into con- nection, from diflerent fragments, but expresses no more than the native sentiments : The eagles scream on high, They whet their forked beaks, Raise — raise the battle cry, 'Tis fame our leader seeks. Generally the expressions are of an exalted and poetic character, but the remark before made of their efforts in song, being discontinuous and abrupt, apply with peculiar force to the war songs. To speak of a bravo man — of a battle — or the scene of a battle, or of the hovering of birds of prey above it, appears sufficient to bring up to the warrior's mind, nil the details consequent on personal bravery or heroic achievement. It would naturally be expected, that they should delight to dwell on scenes of car- nage and blood : but however this may be, all such details are omitted or suppressed in their war songs, which only excite ideas of noble darinj. The birds of the brave take a flight round the sky, They cross the enemy's line, Full happy am I — that my body should fall, Where brare men love to die. INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. 225 Very little effort in the collocation and expansion of some of their senti- ments, would impart to these bold and unfettered ruphsodies, an attractive form, among polislied war songs. The strain in which these measures arc sung, is generally slow and grave in its commencement and progress, and terminates in the highest note. While the words admit of change, and are marked by all the fluc- tuation of e.\tempore composition, the air and the chorus appear to be per- manent, consisting not only of a graduated succession of fixed sounds, but, always exact in their enunciation, their quai tity, and their wild and startling musical expression. It has always appeared to me that the In- dian music is marked by a nationality, above many other traits, and it is a subject invi'ing future attention. It is certain that the Indian ear is ex- act in noting musical sounds, and in marking and beating time. But little observation at their dances, will be sufficient to establish this fact. Nor is it less certain, by attention to tlie philology of their language, that they are exact in their laws of euphony, and syllabical quantity. How this remark may consist with the use of unmeasured and fluctuating poetry in tiieir songs, it may require studied attention to answer. It is to be ob- served, however, that these songs are rather recited, or chanted, than sung. Increments of the chorus are not unfrequently interspersed, in the body of the line, which would otherwise appear deficient in quantity ; and perhaps rules of metre may be found, by subsequent research, which are not obvious, or have been concealed by the scantiness of the materials, on this head, which have been examined. To determine the airs and cho- ruses and the character of the music, will prove one of the greatest facil- ities to this inquiry. Most of the graver pieces, which have been written out, are arranged in metres of sixes, sevens, and eights. The lighter chanis are in threes or fours, and consist of iambics and trochees irregu- larly. Those who have translated hymns into the various languages, have followed the English metres, not always without the necessity of elis- ion, or employing constrained or crampt modes of expression. A worse system could not have been adopted to show Indian sentiment The mu- sic in all these cases has been like fetters to the free, wild thoughts of the native singer. As a general criticism upon these translations, it may be remarked that they -ire often far from being literal, and often omit parts of the original. On the other hand, by throwing away adjectives, in a great degree, and dropping all incidental or side thoughts, and confining the Indian to the leading thought or sentiment, they are, sometimes, rendered more simple, appropriate, and effective. Finally, whatever cuhivated minds among the Indians, or their descendants may have done, it is quite evident to me, from the attention I have been able to give the subject, that the native compositions were without metre. The natives appear to have sung a sufficient number of syllables to comply with the air, and effected the necessary pauses, for sense or sound, by either slurring over, 15 226 INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. and thus shortening, or by throwing in floating particles of the language, to eke out the quantity, taken either from the chorus, or from the general auxiliary forms of the vocabulary. Rhyme is permitted by the similarity of the sounds from which the vo- cabulary is formed, but the structure of the language does not appear to admit of its being successfully developed in this manner. Its forms are too cumbrous for regularly recurring expressions, subjected at once to the laws of metre and rhyme. The instances of rhyme that have been ob- served in the native songs are few, and appear to be the result of the for- tuitous positions of words, rather than of art. The following juvenile see-saw is one of the most perfect specimens noticed, being exact in both particulars : Ne osh im aun Ne way be naun. These are expressions uttered on sliding a carved stick down snow banks, or over a glazed surface of ice, in the appropriate season ; and they may be rendered with nearly literal exactness, thus : My sliding stick 1 send quick — quick. Not less accurate in the rhyme, but at lines of six and eight feet, which might perhaps be exhibited unbroken, is the following couplet of a war song : Au pit she Mon e tOg Ne mud wa wa wau we ne gOg. The Spi'->. on high, Repeats my warlike name. In the translation of hymns, made during the modern period of mis- sionary effort, there has been no jreneral attempt to secure rhyme ; and as these translations are generally due to educated natives, under the inspec- tion and with the critical aid of the missionary, they have evinced a true conception of the genius of the language, by the omission of this acci- dent. Eliot, who translated the psalms of David into the Massachusetts language, which were first printed in 1661, appears to have deemed itim- pcirtant enough to aim at its attainment : but an examination of the work, now before us, gives but little encouragement to others to follow his ex- ample, at least while the languages remain in their present rude and un- cultivated state. The following is the XXIII Psalm from this version : . Mar teag nukquenaabikoo shepse nanaauk God. Nussepsinwahik ashkoshqot nuttinuk ohtopagod INDIAN MUmC, SONGS, AND POETRY. 22 J ed a true this acci- iachusetts ned it i ra- pe work, iv his ex- and un- lersion : 2. Nagum nukketeahog kounoh wutomohkinuh wonk Nutuss oounuk ut sampoi may newutch oowesnonk. 3. Wutonkauhtamut pomushaon muppxonk conauhkoe Woskehettuonk mo nukqueh tamoo newutch koowetomah; 4. Kuppogkomunk kutanwohon nish noonenehikquog Koonochoo hkah anquabhettit wame nummatwomog 5. Kussussequnum nuppuhkuk weetepummee nashpea Wonk woi God nxtallamwaitcb pomponetupohs hau 6. QOniyeuonk monancteonk nutasukkonkqunash Tohsohke pomantam wekit God michem nuttain pish *. This appears to have been rendered from the version of the psalms ap- pended to an old edition of King James' Bible of 1611, and not from the versification of Watts. By comparing it with this, as exhibited below, there will be found the same metre, eights and sixes, the same syllabical quantity, (if the notation be rightly conceived,) and the same coincidence of rhyme at the second and fourth lines of each verse ; although it re- quired an additional verse to express the entire psalm. It could therefore be sung to the ordinary tunes in use in Eliot's time, and, taken in con- nection with his entire version, including the Old and New Testament, evinces a degree of patient assiduity on the part of that eminent mission- ary, which is truly astonishing : The Lord is my shepherd, I'll not want ; 2. He makes me down to lie In pastures green : he leadeth me . the quiet waters by. 3. My soul he doth restore aga < and me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness E'en for his own name's sake. Eliot employed the figure 8, set horizontally, to expreai a peeaUamoiiad. othwwa* he used the English alphabet in its ordinary poweia. 228 .NDIAN MUSIC, SONOS, AND POETRr. 4. Yea, though I walk in death's (lark vale, yet will 1 fear none ill ; Foi thou art with me and thy rod aid stall' me comfort still. 5. My nbic thou hast furnished in presence of my foes ; My head thou dost with oil annoint, and my cup overflows. 6. Goodness and metcy all my life shall surely follow me ; And in God's house forevermore my dwelling place shall be. The harmony of nimibers has always detracted from the plain sense, and the piety of thought, of the scriptures, which is the probable cause of $0 many failures on the subject. In the instance of this Psalm, it will be observed, by a comparison, that Watts, who has so generally succeeded, does not come up, in any respect, to the full literal meaning of the origi- nal, which is well preserved, with the requisite harmony, in the old ver* aion. There is one species of oral composition existing among nil the tribes^ which, from its peculiarities, deserves to be separately mentioned. I al- lude to the hieratic chants, choruses and incantations of their professed prophets, medicine men and jugglers — constituting, as these men do, ad'S- tinct order in Indian society, who are entitled by their supposed skill, wjv dom or sanctify, to exercise the offices of a priesthood. AfTecting myr- te.y in the discharge of their functions, their songs and choruses ar9 couched in language which is studiously obscure, oftentimes cabalistic, and generally not well understood by any but professed initiates. Nothing, I'owcver, in this department of my inquiries, has opened a more pleasing view of society, exposed to the bitter vicissitudes of Indian life, than the little domestic chants of mothers, and the poetic see-saws of children, of which specimens are furnished. These show the universal- ity of the sentiments of natural nflection, and supply another proof, were any wanting, to demonstrate that it is only ignorance, indolence and pov- erty, that sink the human character, and create the leading distinctions among the races of men. Were these affections cultivated, and children early taught the principles of virtue and rectitude, and the maxims of in- dustry, order and cleanliness, there is no doubt that the mass of Indian society would be meliorated in a comparatively short period ; and by a continuance of efllbrts soon exalted from that state of degradation, of which the want of letters and religion have been the principal causes. In presenting these specimens of songs, gathered among the recesses of the forest, it is hoped it will not be overlooked, by the reader, that they INDIAN MUSIC, SONQS, AND POETRY. 229 ore submitted an fads or malerials, in iho mental condition of the tribes, nnd not as cviilencps of attainment in tlie arts of metre and inelmiy, which will boar to be admitted or even criticised by the side of the refined poetry of civilized nations. And above nil, not as efforts to turn Indian senti- ments to account, iti original comjiosition. No sucli idea is entertained. If materials be supplied from which some judgment maybe formed of the actual state of these songs nnd rude oral compositions, or improvisations, the extent of the object will have been attained. But even here, there is less, with the exception of a single department, i. e. versification and com position by cultivated natives, than it was hoped to furnish. And this little, has been the result of a species of labour, in the collection, quite dis- proportionate to the result. It is hoped ut least, that it may indicate thft mode in which such collections may be made, among the tribes, and be- come the means of eliciting materials more worthy of attention. This much seemed necessary to be said in introducing the following specimens, that there might not appear, to the reader, to be an undue esti- mate placed on the literary value of these contributions, and translations, while the main object is, to e.vhibit them in the series, as illustrations ol the mental peculiarities of the tribes. To dismiss them, however, with a bare, frigid word for word translation, such as is required for the pur- poses of philological comparison, would by no means do justice to them, nor convey, in any tolerable degree, the actual sentiments in the minds of the Indians. That the opposite error might not, at the same time, be run into, and the reader be deprived altogether of this means of comparison, a number of the pieces are left with literal prose translations, word for word as near as the two languages will permit. Others exhibit both a literal, and a versified translation. All the North American Indians know that there is a God ; but their priests teach them that the devil is a God, and as he is believed to be very malignant, it is the great object of their ceremonies and sacrifices, to appease him. The Indians formerly worshipped the Sun, as the symbol of divins intelligence. Fire is an unexplained mystery to the Indian ; he regards it as a con- necting link between the natural and spiritual world. His traditionary lore denotes this. Zoroaster says : " When you behold secret fire, without form, shining flashingly through the depths of the whole world — hear the voice of fire." One might suppose this to have been uttered by a North Ameri- can Indian. If ; CHANT TO THE FIRE-I LY. In the hot summer evenings, the children of the Chippewn Algon quins, along the sliores of the upper isikes, unci in the noitl,ern latitudes, frequently assemble before their parents' hnljjfts, nml amuse thiinstlves by little chants of various kinds, with shouts and wiM danciii!,'. Aunuted by such shouts of merriment and ganiliols, 1 walked out one eveninjr, to a green lawn skirting the rdge of the St. Mary's river, with the fail in full view, to get hold of the meaning of some of these chants. The air nnd the plain were literally sparkling,- with the phosijhorescctit light of tho fire-fly. By dint of attention, repeated on one or two occasions, tiic fol- lowing succession of words was caught. They were addressed to this iiisect : VVau wau tay see ! Wau wau tay see I E mow e shin Tshe bwau ne baun-e wee! Bo cghaun — be eghaun — cwee ! VVa Wau tay sec I Wa wau tay see I Was sa koon ain je gun Was sa koon ain jc gun. LITERAL TRANSLATION. Flittmg-white-firc-insect ! waving-white-fire-bug ! give me light befori I go to bed I give me light before I go to sleep. Come, little dancing •• white-fire-bug! Come little llilting-white-fire-beast I Light me with youi bright whitc-flameinstrument — your little candle t- Metre there was none, at least, of a regular character : they were the wild improvisations of children in a merry mood. • In giving the particle wa, tlio various meanings of " flitting," " waving," and "dancing," the Indian idiom i.s I'ldly preserved. 'I'lic (iiuil particle sets, in the term wa wa tai nee, is from the generic root aure, meaning a living cn^ature, or created form, not man. By prefixing Ahw to the root, we have the whole clus.s of quadriiped.s, and by pen, the whole cla.fji of hirds, &.c. The Odjibwa .Vlgomiuiii term for a candle, was •a koon ain je gun, is literally rendered from its i^leinents— •• bright— white — flamed — instrument." It is by the very concrete character of tliise compoiiiids that so much meaning resnll.-i from a few words, and so consideralile a latitudt; in translation la given to Indian words generally. [t Fire-fly, flre-fly ! bright little thing, Light me to bed, and my song I will sing. (Jive me your light, as you fly o'er my head, That I may merrily go to my bed. ' Give me your light o'er the grass a-i you creep, That I may joyfully go to my sleep. Como little tire-fly — come little lM>ast — Come ! and I'll make yon to-morrow a feast. Come little cuiidlc that flies as I sing. Bright little fairy-bug— night's little king ; Come, and I'll dance as you guide me ni^^ng, Come, and I'll pay you, my bug, with a song.] 230 Algon liUlllt'3) Ives by UllU'tCll • lull in Tho nir lit of tho the fol- I to this ETHNOLOGY. sriioo[,rii AIT'S American cyci.oivedia, or ETiiNoi-ocirAL (;A/irrri;F,R of tiik indian tuiiiiis of tmh amfijican CONTINKNT, NORTH AND SOUTH, COMPKlSINtf THKIll Hl.sTORY, r;F.O(;RAI'IIV. and NOMKNCLATURE, FROM THF- DISCOVERY IN U'J-2, TO THE PRESENT PERIOD. (rht befort dancing •• with youi r were the .■aving." «"•' in the term ;rcaleil form, candle, was , — flamed — Uiat so much atioii 18 given 30 ADVERTISEMENT. A rnosPECTUs for this work was issued in 1842. While the title is slightly modified, tho design and plan of its execution have not been essentiiilly changed. The principal object aimed at, under tlie fi:eiR'ral idea of the history and geography of the Aboriginal Race, is to furnish a general and standard reference-book, or short encyclopajdia of topics rela- tive to the entire race, alphabetically arranged. By the insertion of the name of each family of tribes, nation, sub-tribe, or important clan, the occasion will be presented of noticing the leading or characteristic events, in their history, numbers, government, religion, languages, arts or distinc- tive character. Where the .scene or era of their expansion, growth and decay has been so e.vtcnsive, embracing us it does, the widest bounds and remotest periods, their antiquities have also called for a passing notice. Nor could any thing like a satisfactory accomplishment of the plan be efTected, without succinct notices of the lives and achievements of their principal chiefs, rulers, and leading personages. Language is an important means of denoting the intricate thread of history in savage nations. Mr. Pritchard considers it more important than physiological structure and peculiarities. It is, at least, found often to reveal ethnological affinities, where both the physical type, and the light of tradition, aflford but little aid. The words and names of a people, are so many clues to their thoughts and intellectual structure ; this branch of the subject, indeed, formed the original germ of the present plan, which was at first simply geographical, and has been rather expanded and built upon, than, if we may so say, supplied the garniture of the edifice. In a class of transpositive languages, which are very rich in their combinations, and modes of concentrated description, it must needs happen, that the names of places would often recall both associations and descriptions of deep 381 232 ETi.VOLOQy. !l :l interest in contemplating the fate and fortunes of this unfortunate race. Without intruding upon the reader disquisitions whicli would be out of place, no opportunity has been omitted, from tlic considcrniion of their names, to throw around the sites of their former or present residence, thi? species of interest. But half the work would have been done, it is conceived, to have con- fined the work to North America ; and it must necessarily have lost, by such a limitation, more than half its interest. We are just beginning in truth to comprehend the true character and bearing of that unique type of civilization which existed in Mexico, Peru, and Yucatan. The rude hand with which these embryo kingdoms of the native race were overturned, in consequence of their horrid idolatries, necessarily led to the destruction of much of their monumental, and so far as their picture writing reached, some of their historical materials, of both of which, we now feel the want. It is some relief, to know, as the; researches of Mr. Gallatin, which are now in progress, demonstrate, that by fir the greatest amount of the ancient Mexican picture writings, as they are embraced in the elaborate work of Lord Kingsborough, relate to their mythology and superstitions, and are of no historical value whatever. And if the portions destroyed in the Mexican and Peruvian conquests, were as likrally inter- spersed with similar evidences of their wild polytheism, shocking man- ners, and degraded worship, neither chronology nor history have so much to lament. The early, strong and continued exertions which were made by the conquerors to replace this system of gross superstition and idolatry, by the Romish ritual, filled Mexico and South America with missiin* of the Catholic Church, which were generally under the charge of zealous and sometimes of learned and liberal-spirited superintendants, who have accumulated facts respecting the character and former condition of the race. These missions, which were generally spread parallel to the sea coasts of the Atlantic and Pacific, reaching inland alo.ig the banks of the great rivers and plains, have confessedly done much to ameliorate the manners and condition of the native race, to foster a spirit of industiy, ami to enlighten their minds. Still, it is scarcely known, that numerous and powerful tribes, stretching through wide districts of the Andes and the Cordilleras, never submitted to the conqueror, and yet exist in their origi- nal ."ate of barbarism. In this department of inquiry, the geographical and historical work of De Alcedo. which, so far as the Spanish and Portugmse missions arc concerned, is both elaborate and complete in its details, has been taken as a basis. No one can write of South America and its native tribes, without reference to Humboldt. Other standard writers have been consulted, to give this part of the work as much value as possible, not excepting the latest voyajes and travels. The design has been, without aiming at too ETHNOLOGY. 233 e race, out of if iheir ce, th« ve con- lost, by ning in type of de hand rtiirned, slruction reached, feel tho Gallatin, , amount d in the ogy and ? jioilious illy iuter- ing nian- } so much In by the .latry, bj missit ni )f zealous^ Ivho have ion of th« Ito the sea Inks of the iorale the [usuy, anil icvous and and the Ihcir origi- ll work of Issions are li taken as IS, without liisiiUed, to icpliiig tl'C 1,1 ng al too mucli, to compress a body of leading and characteristic facts, in the shortest practicable compass, which should, at the same time, present an ethnologi- cal view of tho various families and groups of the race. In each department of inrpiiry, which admitted of it, the author has availed himself of such sources and opportunities of personal observation and experience, as his long residence in the Indian tcrritorir?, and his study of the Indian history have aflbrdcd. And he is not without the hope, that his inquiries and researches on this head may be found to be such as to merit approval. A. Ab, often pronounced with the sound of we, before it. — a pnrticlc which, in geographical names, in the family of the Algonquin dialects, denotes light, or the cast. It is also the radi.\ of the verb wab, to see, as well as of the derivatives, a-ab, an eye-ball, and wabishka, a white substance, &c., — ideas which either in their origin or application, are closely allied. Ar.ACARis, a settlement of Indians in the Portuguese possessions of the province of Amnzon, These people derive their name from a lake, upon which they reside. It is a peculiarity of this lake, that it has its outlet into the river Madiera which, after flowing out of the province turns about and again enters it, forming, in this involution, the large and fertile island of Topanambes. This tribe is under the instruction of the Carmelites. They rct.iin many of their early peculiarities of manners and modes of of life. They subsist by tho cultivation of maize, and by taking fish in tho waters of tho Abacaris ; or Abacactes in addition to these means, they rely upon tropical fruits. The latest notices of them come down to 1789. But little is known of their numbers, or present condition. AbaciiI'S, or Apaches, an erratic tribe of Indians, who infest the prairies of western Texas and New Mexico. They are supposf d by some, to con- fist of not less than 15,000 souls. They are divided into petty bands, known under various names. They are the most vagrant of all the wild hunter tribes of the general area denoted. They do not live in fixed abodes, but shift about in search of yarnc or plunder, and are deemed a pest by the Santa Fo traders. They rnise nothing and manufacture nothing. Those of them who are ea.st of the Kio del Norte, subsist on the baked root of the mauguey, and a similar plant called Mezcal, and hence they are called Mezcaleros. Another division of thom, and by far tiie greatest, rove west of that stream, where tiiey are c;illed Coyoteros, fioiii tlicir habit of eating the coyote, or prairie wolf They e.\tend we.n into Caliliirnia and Sonora. They bear a bad character wherever they are known. If on tho outskirts 234 ETHNOLOGY. of the ranches and haciendas, they steal caltle and sheep. If on the wide and destitute plains which they traverse, thoy thieve and murder. Some- times they are pursued and punished ; more frequently, they escape. The Mexican authorities keep some sort of terms with them by treaties, which the vagrants, however, break and disregard, whenever they are e.xcited by hunger, or the lust of plunder. For Indians bearing the name, formerly from the U. States, see Apaches. Adaco, one of the Bahama islands. The native inhabitants of this, and the adjacent grouprs of islands, were, early after the discovery, transported to the main, to work in the mines. In 1788 this island, known to nautical men as the locality of the Hole in the Wall, had a population of 50 whites, and 2 Africans. AnAcoociiE, or Coosa, a stream rising in Georgia. It flows into Alabama, and after uniting with the Tallapoosa, a few miles below We- tumpka it forms the Alabama river. The word is, apparently, derived from Oscooche, one of the four bands into which the Muscogees, were anciently divided. Abanakek, or Eastlanders, a distinct people, consisting of a plurality of tribes, who formerly occupied the extreme north eastern part of the United States. The word is variously written by early writers. Sec Abenakics, Abernaquis, Wabunakies. Abaxcay, the capital of a province of the same name 20 leagues from Cuzco, in Peru. It is memorable for the victories gained in the vicinity by the king's troops in 1542 and 1548 against Gonzalo Pizarro. It lies in a rich and spacious valley, which was inhabited by the subjects of the Inca, on the conquest. Abasoa, or Rabasca, a popular corruption, in the northwest, of Atha- basca, which see. Abankp, an unreclaimed nation of Indians, living in the plains of St Juan, to the north of the Orinoco, in New Grenada. They are of a docile character, and good disposition, lending a ready ear to instruction, but have not embraced the Catholic religion. They inhabit the wooded shores of the river, and shelter themselves from the effects of a tropical sun, in the open plains, by erecting their habitations in the small copse-wood. They 've bounded towards the west, by the Andaquies and Caberras, and east l)y the Salivas. A/iANooui, a large settlement of the Guarani nation of Indians, on tht shores of the river Taquani, in Paraguay. This stream and its innabi tants were discovered by A. Numez, in 1541. Abk'joociu, SCO Abacooche. AnEicAP, an ancient name for a tribe of In..ians, in the present erea of the United States, who arc placed in the earlier^ ographies, soiilh of the Alabninas and iresl of the Cherokces. They dwelt at a dist.nnce from the large rivers, yet were located in the districts of the cane, out of th.) hard I ETHNOLOGV. 235 he wide Some- i. The s, which {cited by formerly this, and snsported 3 nnuticai 50 whiles, [lows into elow We- ly, derived gees, were i plurality part of the ■iters. Sec a'l'ues from the vicinity ro. It lies ijects of the St, of Atha- )lains of St of a docile ruction, but ic wooded opical sun, cops a prevalent vice — they conceal their husbands' knives to prevent assassi- nations. They rear but two or three children, killing all above this number. AniscA, an extensive mountainous territory of Peru, lying between the Yetau and Amoramago rivers, east of the Andes, noted from the earliest times, for the number of barbarous nations who occupy it. It is a wild and picturesque region, abounding in forests, lakes and streams, and af- fording facilities for the chase, and means of retreat from civilization, so congenial to savage tribes. An attempt to subjugate these fierce tribes made by Pedro de Andia in 1538, failed. The same result had attended the efforts of the emperor Yupanqui. Abitanis, a mountain in the province of Lipas, in Peru. In the Q,uet- chuan tongue, it signifies the ore of gold, from a mine of this metal, which is now nearly abandoned. AuiTTiBf, the name of one of the tributaries of Moose River, of James' Bay, Canada. Also a small lake in Canada West, near the settlement of Frederick, in north latitude 48°, 35' and west 'ongitudo 82'^ : also, a lake north of lake Ncpissing, in the direction to Moose Fort. It is a term, ap- parently derived from nibee, water, and wab, light. Abitigap, a fierce and, warlike nation of Indians, in the province of Tarma in Peru, of the original Quctche stock. They are situated GO leagues to the east of the Andes. They are barbarians, roving fiom place to place, without habits of industry, and delighting in war. They are numerous, as well ao warlike ; but like all the non-agricuhural tribes of ETHNOLOGY. 237 south Ayrcs OD.OOO educed, ature as Imnung riie \vo- 5 people lealured. e hardi- ilJhood ; s proper- sticking icoiching :y believe e dancing ar, dining isclves in jxicatcd — • ;nt assassi- above this ;t\veen the .he earliest It is a wild ns, and af- ization, so lerce tribes id attended II the Q,uet' jctal, which of James' Itllement of ), a lake la tenn,ap- Irovince of ]sini.ited 60 r fi om place They are 111 tribes of the region, thoyaro often in want and wretchedness. They are bounded on the south by their enemies the Ipilcos. Alto, Aiiouon Mi('iiAHo,or the Great Hare, a personage rather of mytholo- gical, tiian historical note, in the traditions of the Lake Algonquin tribes. It is not clear, although probable, that he is to be regarded as identical with Manabosbo, or Nanabosho. Aiio.ii;i<;, a celebrated war and hereditary chief of the Chippewa nation, who flourished during the last century; more commonly written Wabo- jeeg, which see. AniiAiiAM, a chief of the Mohawks, who, after the fall of king Hendrick, so called, at the battle of lake Goorge, in 1755, between the English and French armies, became the ruling chief of that nation. He was the younger brother of Hendrick, and lived at the lower Mohawk Castle. He was of small stature, but shretvd and active, and a fluent speaker. Numbers of his speeches are preserved, which he delivered, as the ruling chief of his tribe, in various councils, during the stormy era of 1775, which eventuated in the American revolution. In the events of that era, his name soon disappenis : as he was then a man of advanced years, he probably died at his village. It is not known that he excelled in war, and, at all events, he was succeeded, about this time, in fame and authority, by a new man in the chieftainship, who rose in the person of Thyendancgea, better known as Joseph Brant. Abraham, or little Abraham, as he was generally called, appears from his speeches and policy, to have thorough- ly adopted the sentiments and policy of Sir William Johnson, of whom, with his tribe generally, he was the friend and admirer. He was, as his speeches disclose, pacific in his views, cautious in policy, and not in- clined it would seem, to rush headlong into the great contest, which was then brewing, and into which, his popular successor. Brant, went heart and hand. With less fame than his elder brother Hendrick, and with no warlike reputation, yet without imputation upon his name, in any way, he deserves to be remembered as a civilian and chieftain, who bore a respect- able rank; as one of a proud, high spirited, and important tribe. Little Abraham was present at the last and final council of the Mohawks, with the American Commissioners, at Albany, in September 1775, and spoke for them on this occasion — which is believed to have been the last peaceable meeting between the Americans and the Mohawk tribe, prior to the war. i I ; 1 i : i i!' 1' ■ ; , 1 i i [NoTB. — Accents are placed over all words of North American origin, when known Vowels preceding a consonant, or placed between two consonants, are generally short: following a consonant, or ending a syllable or word, they arc generally long. Diphthongs are used with tlieir ordinary power.] Absecon. a beach of the sea coast of New Jersey, sixteen miles south- west of Little Egg Harbor. The word is a derivative from Wabisee, a Swan, and Ong, a Place. AnsoROKA, a name for the Minnetaree tribe of Indians on the river Mis- souri. They are phiiologicnlly of the Dacotah family. See Minnetaree. AnucEEs, a mission of the Sucumbias Indians, in the province of Quixos, Cluito, which was founded by the order of Jesuits. It is situated on the shores of a small river, which enters the Putumago, in north latitude 0° 30' longitude 79° 2' west. Aburka, a town, in a rich valley of the same name, in New Grenada, discovered in 1540, by Robledo. In its vicinity are found many huacas, or sepulchres of the Indians, in which great riches, such as gold ornaments, are found deposited. There are, in the vicinity, some streams of saline water, from which the Indians manufacture salt. Abwoin. or Bwoi\, a name of the Chippewas, Ottawas, and other mod- ern Algonquin tribes of the upper Lakes, for the Dacotah or Sioux na- tion. It is rendered plural in ug. The word is derived from abwai, a stick used to roast meat, and is said to have been given to this tribe, in re- proach from the ancient barbarities practised towards their prisoners taken captive in war. For an account of this tribe, see Dacotah and Sioux. Abwoinac; Ab\voi\a : Terms applied to the general area between the Mississippi and Missouri, lying north of the St. Peter's, occupied by Sioux tribes. In the earlier attempts of Lord Selkirk, to plant a colony in parts of this region, the compound term Assinaboina, was, to some extent, but unsuccessfully employed. The two former terms are derivatives from Abwoin, a Sioux, and akee, earth ; the latter has the prefix assin, (ossin,) a stone. AcAQUATo, a settlement of Indians in the district of Tancitars, in Peru, reduced in 1788, to fifteen families, who cultivated maize and vegetables. AcAMBARo, a settlement of 490 families of Indians, and 80 of Mustees, 238 i ETHNOLOGY. 239 1 known ly short: pltthongs ?S south- abisee, a iver Mis- nnetaree. f Gluixos, ed on the ilitude 0° Grenada, ly huacag, naments, of saline Ither mod- Isioiix na- abwai, a jibe, in re- lers taken Sioux, jtween the by Sioux ly in parts ;xtenl, but lives from |n, (ossin,) I, in Peru, Vegetables, if Mtisteetf belonging to llie order of St. Francis, in the district of Zelaya, in the province and bisiiopric of Mechoacan, seven leagues S. of its capital. AcAMisTi.AHUAC, a Settlement of 30 Indian families in the district of Tas CO, attached to the curacy of its capital, from whence it is two leagues E. N. E. AciiAMUciiiTLAN, a Settlement of GO families of Indians in the district of Texopilco, and civil division of Zultepec. They sell sugar and honey— the district al; duces maize and vegerrb'pa. J' is 5 leagues N. of its head s . ment. AcANTEPEc. The head settlement of Tlapa, embracing 92 Indian fami lies, including another small settlement in its vicinity, all of whom main- tain themselves by manufacturing cotton stuffs. AcAPETLAHUALA, a Settlement of 180 Indian families, being the principal settlement of the district of Escateopan, and civil district of Zaquacpa. AcAKi, a settlement in a beautiful and extensive valley of Camana, in Peru, noted for a lofty mountain called Sahuacario, on the skirts of which the native Indians had constructed two fortresses, prior to their subjuga- tion by the Spanish. This mountain is composed of "misshapen stones, and sand," and is reported, at certain times of the year to emit loud sounds, as if proceeding from pent up air, and it is thought to have, in consequence, attracted the superstitious regard of the ancient Indian inhab- itants. AcATEPEC. There are five Indian settlements of this name, in Spanish America. 1. A settlement comprising 8G0 Indian families, of the order of St. Francis, in the district of Thehuacan. Forty of these families live on cultivated estates stretching a league in a spacious valley, four leagues S. S. W. of the capital. 2. A settlement in the district of Chinantla, in the civil jurisdiction of Cogamaloapan. It is situated in a pleasant plain, surrounded by three lofty mountains. The number of its inhabitants is reduced. The In- dians who live on the banks of a broad and rapid river, which intercepts the great roiid to the city of Oxaca, and other jurisdictions, support themselves by ferrying over passengers in their barks and canoes. It is 10 leagues W. of its head settlement. 3. A settlement of 1 00 Indian fiimilies, in the same kingdom, situated be- tween two high ridges. They are annexed to the curacy of San Lorenzo, two leagues off 4. A settlement of 39 Indian families annexed to, and distant one league and a half N. of the curacy of Tlacobula. It is in a hot valley, skirted by a river, which is made to irrigate the gardens and grounds on its borders. 5 A sculement of 12 Indian families in the mayomleof Xicayun of the same kins;dom. AcATEPEQUE, St. Francisco, De, a settlement of 140 Indian families in I 240 ETHNOLOGY. ) ' ( tlio mnyorate of St. AnJrcs de Ciiolula, situated half a league S. of 'tS capital. AcATLAN, six locations of Indians exi'*, under this name, in Mexico. 1. A settlement of 8r)( "•inilics of Indians in the aknllia of this name, cmbracintr some 20 Spaniards and Mustcrx. In the vicinity are some ex- cellent salt groimds. Tiio climate is of n mild temperature, and tho surrounding country is fertile, abounding in fruits, (lowers, and pulse,und £ well watered. It is ^j leajTues E. S. E. of Me.xico. 2. A settlement of 180 Indian families in Xalapa of the same Idngdom, (now repiihlic.) It occupies a spot of clayey ground of a cold moist tem- perature, in consequence of which, and its being subject to N. winds, fruits, in this neighbourhood, do not ripen. Other branches of cuhiva- tion succeed from the abundance of streams of water, and their fertili- zing effects on the soil. This settlement has the dedicatory title of S(. Andres. 3. Sa.\ Pkdro, in the district of Malacatepec, and alcaldia of Nexapa. It contains 80 Indian families, who trade in wool, and the fish called bohOf which are caught, in large quantities, in a considerable river of the dis- trict. 4. ZiTLALA. Tt consists of 198 Indian families, and is a league and a half N. of its b ' settlement of this name. 5. Skntkpkc, . settlement 15 leagues N. E. of its capital. The tempo rature is cold. It has 42 Indian families. G. Atotomlco, in the alcaldia mayor of Tulanzingo. It contains 115 Indian families, and has a convent of the religious order of i... Augus- tine. It is 2 leagues N. of its head settlement. AcATLANZiNGo, 3 Settlement of G7 Indian families of Xicula of the nl- cadia mayor of Nexapa, who employ themselves in the culture of cochi- neal plants. It lies in a plam, surrounded on all sides by mountains. AcAXEt:, a nation of Indians in the province of Topia. They are re- presented to have been converted to tiie catholic faith by the society of Jesuits in IC02. They are docile and of good dispositions and abilities. One of their ancient customs consisted of bending the heads of their dead to their knees, and in this posture, putting them in caves, or under a rock and at the same time, depositing a quantity of food for their supposed journey in another state. They also exhibited a farther coincidence with the customs of the northern Indians, by placing a bow and arrows with the body of the dead warrior, for his defence. Should an Indian woman happen to die in child-bed, they put the surviving infant to death, as hav- ing been the cause of its mother's decease. This tribe rebelled against the Spanish in 1G12, under the influence of a native prophet, but they were subdued by the governor of the province, Don Francisco de Ordinola. AcAXETE, Santa Maria de, the head settlement of the district of Tepcaca, on the slope of the ikna o( Tlascala. It consists of 1 7G Mexican Indians, i ETHNOLOGY. 241 ! S. of itfl Mexico. his name, 3 some ex- , and tho pulse, und ! kingdom, moist tem- N. winds, of cnltiva- ihcir feitili- tiilc of St. of Ncxnpa. called bobOf of the dis- cacrue and a The tempo contains 115 f i.. Augus- ila of the nl- jrc of cochi' untains. rhey are re- le society of and abilities, of their dead under a rock leir supposed icidence with arrows with ndian woman death, as hav- ed against the 3ut they were de Ordinola. ct of Tepcaca, xican Indians, 7 Spanish families, and 10 Mustecs and Mulatoes. In its vicinity there is a reservoir of hewn stone, to catch the waters of the mountain, which are thence conducted to Tepcaca, three leagues N. N. W. AcAxucHiTLAN, a curacy consisting of 106 Indian families of the bishopric of La Peubla de los Angelos. It is in the alcaldia of Tulanzingo, lying 4 leagues E. of its capital. AcAYUcA, the capital of a civil division of New Spain, in the province of Goazacoalco, embracing, in its population, 296 families of Indians, 30 of Spaniards, and 70 of mixed bloods. It lies a little over lOU leagues S. E. of Mexico, in lat. 17° 53' N. AcAzi.xQo, St Juan de, a settlement of the district of Tepcaca, consist- ing of 700 families of Indians, 150 of Spaniards, 104 of Mustees, and 31 of Mulatoes. It is situated in a plain of mild temperature, well watered, and has a convent and fountain, and a number of " very ancient buildings." Acc6cii:sAW8, a tribe of Indians of erratic habits, of Te.\as, whose prin- cipal location was formerly on the west side of the Colorado, about 200 miles S. W. of Nacogdoches. At a remoter period they lived near the gulf of Mexico: they made great use of fish, and oysters. Authors represent the country occupied, or traversed by them, as exceedingly fertile and beautiful, and abounding in deer of the finest and largest kind. Their language is said to be peculiar to themselves ; they are expert in communicating ideas by the system of signs. About A. D. 1750 the Spanish had a mission among them, but removed it to Nacogdoches. AccoMAO, a county of Virginia, lying on the eastern shores of Chesa- peak bay. This part of the sea coast was inhabited by the Nanticokes, who have left their names in its geography. We have but a partial vo- cabulary of this tribe, which is now extinct. It has strong analogies, however, to other Algonquin dialects. Aco, in these dialects, is a generic term, to denote a goal, limit, or fixed boundary. Ahkee, in the Nanticoke, is the term for earth, or land. Auk, is a term, in compound words of these dialects, denoting wood. The meaning of accomac, appears to be as far as the woods reach, or, the boundary between meadow and wood- lands. Acc'OMACS, one of the sub tribes inhabiting the boundaries of Virginia on its discovery and first settlement. Mr. Jefferson states their numbers in 1607 at 80. In 1669, when the legislature of Virginia directed a cen- sus of the Indian population, within her jurisdiction, there appears no no- tice of this tribe. They inhabited the area of Northampton county. They were Nanticokes — a people whose remains united themselves or at least took shelter with the Lenapees, or Delawares. AccoHA.Nocs, a division or tribe of the Powhetanic Indians, numbering 40, in 1607. They lived on the Accohanoc river, in eastern Virginia. 16 ;i i :ii 242 ETIINOI.OaY. Ar(!()MT;NTAS, n orjiid, or division of the Puwtiickct Indians inhabiting the northerly purl of Miissnchusitis in 1074. (Gookin.) AciiAcwA, a nution of Inilians of New Grcniidn, dwollinp in the pinins of < Juziiiinrc and Mcta, and in the woods of the river Ele. They ore bold and dexterous hunters with the dait nnd spear, and in their contests with their enemies, they poison ihei: \vei'i|)ons They are fond of horses, nnd rub their bodies with oil, to make their hair shine. They go naked except a small azeaun made of the fibres of the aloe. They anoint their children with a bituminous ointment nt their birth, to prevent the srroAth of hair. 'I'he brows of femahs arc also deprived of hair, and immediately rubbed with the juice of jaffiia. whieh rendf!rs tliem bald ever after. They ore of a jrentle disposition but addicted to intoxication. The Jesuits for- merly reduced many of them to the Catholic faith, and formed them into settlements in 16GI. AntAFAi.AVA, t!-e principal western outlet of the Mississippi river. It is a Choctaw word, meaning, "the long river," from hwcha, river, and/a/aya, long. (Gallatin.) AcKoWAVs, a synonym for a band of Indians of New France, now Canada. Sec Acoiiez. AcMCKrKSEFBf:, a remote northern tributary of the stream called Rum river, which enters the Mississippi, some few miles above the fulls of St. Anthony, on its left banks. It is a compound phrase, from Akeek, a kettle, and seebe, a stream. It was on the margin of this stream, in a wide and spacious area, interspersed with beaver ponds, that a detachment of Gen. Cass's exploring party in July 1S20, encamped ; nnd the next morning discovered an Indian pictorial letter, written on bark, detailing the incidents of the march. AcKF.KKo, or the Kettle chief, a leading Saiic chief who exercised his authority in 1820, at an important Indian village, situated on the right banks of the Mississippi, at Dubuque's mines. AcJiiji.'ANCHu ot-A, the name of a creek in Pennsylvania ; it signifies in the Delaware or Lcnapee language, as given by Htckewelder, the brush- net fishing creek. AcinvK K, a small stream in central Pennsylvania. It denotes in the Dfl.iware language, according to HeckewelJer, brushy, or difficult to pass. AconAMBA, a settlement In the prnvmee of Angaraes in Peru, near which are some monumental remains of the ancient race, who inhabited th(! country prior to its conquest by the Spanish. They consist, chiefly, of a pyramid of stones, and the ruins of some well sculptured stone couches, or benches, now much injured by time. Aooi.MAN, San Augustiri de, a fettlement of 240 families of Indians of Tezcoco in Mexico. It is situitefi in a pleasant valley, with a benign tem- perature, and has a convent of Augustine monks. .i ETHNOLOOV. 243 AcoMKn, a fill in the river Amariscofrq-in, Mnino, denoting, in the Indian, MS is supposed, a rest, or place of stopping. From aco, a bound or point A"(i,MiiM'o, n villiiL:;e of 12 Indian families in Zochicoatlan, New Spain, two le:imtes W. of its capital. At.oNK'iii, the name of a sottlement of Indians formerly living on the river Eno, in North Carolina. AcoriTLAN, a settlement of 15 Indian families, in the a/m/7ifflof Aiitlan, Mexico. They employ themselves in raisinif cattle, making sugar and honey, and e.xtracting oil from the cacao fruit. AentiKz, a name formerly applied by the French to a band of Indians in New France. Believed to be identical with Ackownys. Ac(i'i\cKiNAC, or Auqua»;kimink, the Indian name of a town on the W. side of the F*ass;iic river. New Jersey, ten miles N. of Newark and 17 from New York. From aco, a limit, misquak, a red cedar, and auk, a stump or trunk of a tree. A'yi'i.Nosinori;, or United People, the vernacular name of the Iroquois for ihcii- confederacy. It appears, (Vom iheir traditions, communicated to the Rev. Mr Pyrlaus, a Dutch missionary of early date, that this term had not been in U3e abevo 51' years prior to the first settlement of the country : and if so, wo t.'ave a late ivi'e, not more remote than 1550 for the origin of this celebrated union. iJut this maybe doubted. Cartier discovered the St. Lawrence in 1534, and found them at the site of Montreal ; Verri- zani, is siid to have entered the bay of New York ten years before. Hud- son ei'tered the liver in 1G09. Jamestown was founded the year before. The Pilgrims landed at Plymouth 14 years later. It is more probable that ihe 50 years should be taken from the period of the earlier attempts of thi' French settlements, which would place the origin of the confederacy about A. D. 1500. (See Iroquois.) ArroiwN, or Octitpan, a town and settlement of l\w Othomies Indians, situated 23 leagues N N. E. of Me.tico. Its population is put by Alcedo in l?-*?, ill 2750 families. These are divided into two parties, sep.irated by thi church. It also contains 50 families of Spaniards, Musloes, and Mukfoes. The temperature is mild, but the ground is infested with the cactii.s thorns and teasel, which leads the inhabitants to devote their atten- tion to tin- raising of sheep and goats. In this vicinity are found numbers of the sihgulir liird, called zeiizoutla by the Mexican Indians. Ai'TfiMN, a settlement of 210 families of Indians in the district of Xoci- niil(;o, Mexico. An lAPAX, a settlement of 5S Indian families, in the nlrahUa mayor of Zuliepec, annexed to the curacy of Temascaltepcc. They live by dress- ing hiJis for the market — ib. AcrjiLPA, a settlement of 02 Indian families, in the magistracy of TIapa, Mexico It is of a hot and moist temperature, yielding grain, and th* white medicinal earth called chia, in which they carry on a trade. i! 244 BTHNOLOOT. Acuio, a consiJerablo ««'ttlenient of Spaniards, Musloog, Mulalnrg, and Negroes, 30 leagues W. of Cinaqiia, in the curacy of Tauricato, Mexico j embracing Indian families. AcuLA, San Picdro de, an Indian settlement of 305 families, four leagues E. of Cozamnluapan, its capital. It is situated on a high hill, bounded by n largo lake of the most salubrious water, called Peutla by the natives. This lake has its outlet into the sea through the sand banks of Alvarado, and the lake is subject to overflow its Ixuiks in the winter season. Aci'irrr.AN, an Indian settlement of 45 families, in the district of Tepu.xilco, Mexico, who trade in sugar, honey, and maize. It is five leagues N. E. of Zultepec, and a (piarter of a league from Acamuchitlan. AcuTZio, an Indian settlement of Tiripitio, in the magistracy of Valla- dolid, and bishopric of Mechoacan, Mexico. It contiiins 13G Indian families, and 1 1 families of Spaniards and Mustees. Si.x cultivated e.8tates in this district, producing wheat, maize, and other grains, employ most of this population, who also devote part of their labour to the care of large and small cattle. Adaf8, or Adaize, a tribe of Indians, who formerly lived forty mile» aouth west from Natchitoches, in the area of country, which now consti- tutes a part of the republic of Texas. They were located on a lake, which communicates with the branch of Red-river passing Biiyou Pierre. This tribe appears to have lived at that spot, from an eorly period. Their language is stated to be difTicult of ac(|iii8ition, and different from all others, in their vicinity. They were at variance with the ancient Natchez, and joined the French in their assault upon them in 170S. They were intimate with the Caddoes, and spoke their language. At the last dates, (1812) they were reduced to twenty men, with a disproportionate number of women. The synonyms for this now extinct tribe are, Adayes ; Adees; Adaes; Adaize. Adario, a celebrated chief of the Wyandot nation, who was at the height of his usefulness and reputation, about 1690. He was able in the councils of his tribe, shrewd and wily in his plans, and firm and courage- ous in their execution. The Wyandots, or Hurons as they are called by the French, were then living at Michilimackinac, to which quarter they had been driven by well known events in their history. The feud be- tween them and their kindred, the Iroquois, still raged. They remained the firm allies of the French ; but they were living in a state of expatri- ation from their own country, and dependant on the friendship and cour- tesy of the Algonquins of the upper lakes, among whom they had found a refuge. Adario, at this period, found an opportunity of making him- self felt, and striking a blow for the eventual return of his nation. To understand hi-:, position, a few allusions to the history of the period «re necessary. In 1687, the English of the province of New- York, resolved to avail ETHNOLOQT. 245 rs, and lexico J fs, fouf yh hill, fi by the lanUs of r season, itiict of It is five uchitlan. of Valla- G Indian eJ rotates y most of i of large brty mile* lovv consti- jn a lake, ^'ou Pierre. od. Their It from all )t Natchez, rhey were last dales, late number es; Adees; Iwas at the able in the |nd courage- fe called by |uarter they Ihc feud be- )y remained of expatri- ip and cour« ly had found laUing hiui- Ition. )f the period lived to avail thrniselvca of n recrnt nllinnco botweon the two crowns, to attempt a par* ticipiuion in the fur trade of the upper lakes. Thoy peisuailed the Iro- quois to set free a number of Wyandot captives to guide them through the lakes, and open an iutercourso with their people. Owing to the high price and srarcily of goods, this plan was favored by Adario and his peo- ple, ami iii^^o by the Ottowas and I'ottowattomis, but the onterprisc failed. Major Mc(Jiegory, who led the party, was intercepted by a largo body of French from Mickinac, the whole parly captured and their goods were distributed irratuitously to the Indians, 'i'he lake Indians, who had, co- vertly couiiienanced this attempt, were thrown back entirely on ihe French trade, and subjected to suspicions which nirle them uneasy in ; leir coun- cils, and an.xious to do away with the susp'cions entertained of their fidel- ity by the French. To this end Adario marched a party of 100 men from Mackinac against the Iroquois. Stopping at -brt C. darackui to get some intelligence which might guide him, iIk commai' .-nt inforr- 1 him that the governor of Canada, Denonville, was in hopes of conci . 'ing a pence with the Five Nations, and expected their ambassadors at Mur ireal in a few days. He therefore advised the chief to return. Did s)ich a peace take place, Adario perceived that it would leave the ircqiois to push th>) war against his nation, which had already been drivt i from the banks of the Si Lawrence to lake Huron. He dissembled his fears, however, be- fore the commandant, and left the fort, not for the purpose of returning home, but to waylay the Iroquois delegates, at a portage on the river where he knew they must pass. He did not wait over four or five days, when the deputies arrived, guarded by 40 young warriors, who were all sur- prised, and either killed or taken prisoners. His next object was to shift the blame of the act on the governor of Canada, by whom he told his pri- soners, he had been informed of their intention to pass this way, and he was thus prepared to lie in wait for them. They were much surprised at this apparent act of perfidy, informing him at the same time, that they were truly and indeed on a message Oi p'^.ne. Adario afTected to grow mad with rage against Denonville, dec.'iwjjg that he would some lime be revenged on him for making him a tool, in committing so horrid a trea- chery. Then looking steadfastly on the prisoners, among whom was Dekanefora, the head chief of the Onondaga tribe, " Go," said he, " my brothers, I untie your bon's, ;inJ send you home again, although our nations be at war. The French governor has made me commit so blacit an action, that I shall never be easy after it, until the Five Nations have taken full revenge." The ambassadors were so well persuaded of the perfect truth of his declarations, that they replied in the most friendly terms, and said the way was opened to their concluding a peace between their respective tribes, at any time. He then dismissed his prisoners, with presents of arms, powder and ball, keeping but a sin.jle man (an adopted Shawnee) to supply the place of the only man he had lost in the engage- 'I m 246 ETIiNOLOKY. ':ii ! ment. By one boM cffjit he thus l)le\v up the fire of discord between the French and their enemies, at the moment it was about to e.xpiit'. and laid the foiiiiflation of a peace with his own nation. Adario delivered bis slave to the French on reiichirijif M.ickinnc, who, to keep up the old en- mity between the Wyandots and the Five Nations, ordered him to be shot. On this Adario called up an Iroquois prisoner who was a witness of ibis scene, and wlio had long been detained among them, and told him lo es- cape to his own country, and give an acrount of the crueltv of the French, fron) whom it was not in his power to save a prisoner lie bad him9t:lf taken. This increased the rage of the Five Nations to such a pitch, that when Mon?. Denonville sent a message to disown the act of Adario, they put no faith in it, but burned for revenge. Nor was it long before the French felt the effects of their rage. On the 26th of July, 1088, they landed with 1200 men on the upper end of the island of Montreal, and carried dts- truction wherever they went. Houses were burnt, plantations sacked, and men, women and children massacred Above a thousand of the French inhabitants were killed, and twenty-six carried away prisoners, most of whom were burnt alive. In October of the same year, they renewed their incursion, sweeping over the lower part of the island as they had previ- ously done the upper. The consequences of these inroads were most dis- astrous to the French, who were reduced to the lowest point of political despondency. They burnt their two vessels on Cadarackui lake, aban- doned the fort, and returned to Montreal. The news spread far and wide among the Indians of the upper lakes, who, seeing the fortunes of the French on the wane, made treaties with the English, and thus opened the way for their merchandise into the lakes. — [Golden.] Such were the consequences of a single enterprise, shrewdly planned and vigorously executed. The fame of its author spread abroad, and he was every where regarded as a man of address, courage and abilities. And it is from this time, that the ancient feud between the Wyandots and their kindred, the Five Nations, began to cool. They settled on the straits of Detroit, where they so long, and up lO the close of the late war (1814.) exercised a commanding influence among the lake tribes, as keepers of the general council fire of the nations. La Honlan, in his Travels in New France, relates some conversations with this chief, on the topic of religion, which may be regarded, almost exclusively, as fabuloii;>. AnAVFs, Adaks, and Adkf.s, forms of orthography, occurring in various writers, for the Adaize Indians, which see. Adkquatan'oif, a tributary of the eastern head waters of the river Sus- quehanna in New- York. The word is Iroquois. AnoEEs, the number of this tribe, residing on the waters of Red River, ' I ETHNOLOGY. U1 ?en the lul laid ic,l his olJ en- \,f shot. of this u 10 e8- V of the he had ml when E-v pul no . French ndcJ wiih ivvied d«s- icked, and le French s, moit of ewed ihtir had pievi- e most dis- of political like, abiin- r and wide uncs of the opened the lly planned load, and he ind abilities- i-andots and m the straits war (1814,) Icppeis of the l^onvrvsations Uded, almost Ing in various [he river StJS- jf Red River, in Louisiana, in 1825, is stated, in an ofiiciul report, from the war depart- ment of that year, at twenty-seven. Ai oi.ics, a settlement of Indians in tlic province of Oiiiioco. 'I'hey were of the S:tliva nation. The settlement was destroyed by llie Curibs in 1G-J4. A»ii;6m)a(Ks, the name of the Iroquois tribes for llie Alyonqiiiiis. The fonsiicrition of their history and characteristics, as a i.iinily of tiibes, will be tiken up, muler the latter term. Ai)if!'>M)A(K MoiiNPAiNP, a name bestowed, in the j^eological survey of New Yo.k, upon the moiintains at tiie source of the Hudson lliver. AniK, Ia-ija. See laba Wadik. AiMKiMiNis, or Cariboo Island ; an island situated in the north eastern part of l»ko Superior, which is invested with no other importance than it derives Tom Indian mythology and superstition. It is small and has sel- dom been visited. The Cliippewas believe that this is one of the places of resilience of their local manitoes, and that it was formerly iiiliabitrd hy Michiibo or Manaliosho, Early travellers, who notice this belief, repre- sent its shores to t.'C covered with jjolJen sands, but that these sands are guiu'ded by powerful spirits, who will not permit the treasure to be carried away. Many fanciful tales are told of its having been once attenipted, when a hw^o spirit st'ode into the water, and reclaimed the shining trea- sure. This is Carver's version, who, however, confounds it with another contiijuous island. Henry, who visited it in his search after silver mines, in I7G.">. says that the Indians told him that their ancestors hud o:.co landed there, being driven by stress of weather, but had great difFii ulty in e.sc.iping from the power of enormous snalces. He calls it the Island of Yellow S mds. It abounded certainly with hawks in his day, one of whom was so bold as to pluck his cap from his head. He found nothing to reward his search but a number of Caril)oos. which is the .American reindeer, of which no less than 13 were killed, during his stay of three days. He represented it to be I'i miles in circumference, low, and covered with ponds, ami to be sixty miles distant from the north shore of the lake. He thinks it is perhaps the same island which the French called Isle de Poiifcharlrain. AFFA(;our.A, a small village of Indians, of Louisiana, who were located in 1783 near Point Coup6, on the Missit^sippi. Ac;<('i:s, a nation of Indians of the province of Paraguay. They are numeious, valiint. and of a lofty stature. They were, in ancient times, masters of the banks of the Paraguay, waging war against the Guavanies, and keeping the Spaniards at bay, but were at last subjugated in 1.542, by Alvar Nimez Cabezi de Vaca, governor of the province. A'iAiMATA, an Iroquois chief, who, having gone on an embassy of peace About 1()88, to Canada, the governor, Monsieur Coiirsel, being cxaspe- 248 ETHNOLOGY. Ii rated against him, on account of bad faith and a violation of a treaty, caused him to be hanged in the presence of his countrymen. Agamentigls, a mountain of considerable elevation, eight mdes from York harbour, Maine; also, a river of the same vicinity, which derives jts waters chiefly from the influx of Piscataqua bay. The termination of the name in us, is foreign, and not in accordance with the Abenakie dialects of this coast. Agamuntic, the name of a small lake, or pond, of Maine, which dis- charges its waters through the west branch of the Chaudiere river. Agawams, a band of Indians of the Pokenoket, or Wampanong typfi, who formerly lived at various periods, in part in Sandwich, in part in Ipswich, and in part in Springfield, Massachusets. The word is written with some variety, in old authors, the chief of which, are, the addition of another g, and the change of the penultimate a to o. Agiocochook, a name of the Indians, for the White Mountains of New- Hampshire ; of which the penuhimate ok, is the plural. This group is also called, according to President Allen, Waumbek — a word, which in some of the existing dialects of the Algonquin, is pronounced Waubik, that is. White Rock. Agnalcs, a tribe of infidel Indians, inhabiting the mountains north of the river Apure, in New Grenada. Agkias, a tribe of Indians, formerly very numerous, of the govern- ment of Santa Marta, to the north of the Cienegra Grande. They are, at present, considerably reduced. Agua :)e Ct'LEBRA, San Francisco Xavier De La, a r-crfuccjon of Indians of the Capuchins, of the province of Venezuela. The vicinity produces, in abundance, cacao, yucao, and other vegetable productions. Aguacagua, an Indian mission, on a branch of the Oronoco, called Caroni. Aguacati.an, an Indian mission of Xala, in Mexico. In 1745, il contained 80 families of Indians, who cuhivated maize and French beans. Agualuu'o, the capital of the jurisdiction of Izatlan, New Giilicia, which in 1745, contained 100 Indian families. Aguanos, a settlement in the province of Mainas, Quito, so called from the Indians of whom it is composed. Aguarico, an Indian mission of the Jesuits, on the shores of the river Napo, of the province of Mainas, Quito. Aguaringua, an ancient and large settlement of Indians of the Taironas nation, in Santa Marta. Aguii.usco, a settlement of the district of Arantzan, in the province of Mechoacan, which contains 36 Indian Aimilies. They subsist by sowing seed, cutting wood, making saddle trees, and manufacturing vessels of fine earthen ware. ETHNOuOQY. 249 Ahapopka, a lake of Florida, having its outlet through the Oclawaha liver of the St. John's. AiiASiMUs, an ancient Indian name, for the present site of Jersey city, Hudson county, New Jersey. Ano.ME, or Ahorna, a nation of Indians, living on the banks of the river Zaquc, in the province of Cinaloa, of California. They are located four leagues from the gulf, in extensive and fertile plains, and are said to be su- perior, by nature, to the other Indians of New Spain. Some of tlieir customs denote this. They abhor poligamy, they hold virginity in the highest estimation. Unmarried girls, by way of distinction, wea" a small shell suspended to their neck, until the day of their nuptials, when it is taken off by the bridegroom. They wear woven cotton. They bewail their dead a year, at night and morning. They are gentle and faithful in their covenants and engagements. AuoiiANDArr:, a name "or the tribe of the Wyandots, which is found on ancient maps of the Colonies. AiiCACATLAN, the name of four separate settlements of Mexico, contain- ing, respectively, 51, 13, 4.")0, and IGO families of Indians. AuiJACAZALC/i, Nueva Espana. At this place, 56 families of Indians live by raising rice and cotton. It is in the district of San Luis de la Costa. AiiUACAZiN'Go, in the district of Atengo, Nueva Espana, contains 46 Indian families. Aeihalican, of '.i.e same province, has 36 Indian families. AiiUATELCo, ib. Has 289 faniilies, who cultivate wheat and raise cattle. AnuATKMPA, ib. Has 39 families. AnuATKi'Kc, ib. Has 32 families. AuiiAZiTLA, ib. Has 36 families, who trade mchia, a white medicinal earth, grain and earthf:n-ware. AnwAiiAWA, a tiibe of Indians who were found in 180.) to be located a few miles above the Mandans, on the south west banks of the Missouri. They are believed to have been a band of the Minnitares. They numbered nt that date 200. They were at war with the Snake Indians. Theyclaim to have once been a part of the Crow natiofi. They professed to have been long residents of the spot occupied. The name has not been kept up, and does not appear in recent reports from that quarter. Their history is, probably, to bo sought in that of the Mandans and the Minnetares. AiAuoAL.TKHr'A, a settlement of Chalipa, Mexico, containing 36 Indian families. AiAiitiAr.tiLro, ib. Two settlements of this name, contain, respectively, 70 and 42 Indian families. AiATAXGd, ib. contains 100 Indi.m fimilies. AiATKPKc, ib. has '15 families of natives. AiAUTLA, ib. has 100 families. 250 ETHNOLOGY. AicifES, a settlement of Indians of Texas, situated on the main road t Mexico. AiKCTirAo, Mexico. T»venty-one Indinn families reside here. AiNsr;, a Chippewa chief of Point St. I^rnace, Mwhiiimackinac county, Michigan. Tlic popuktion of this bam!, as shown by the government census rolls in 1S4U, was 193, of whom 33 weio men, .'34 women, and 106 children. They support ihemst'lves by the ciiasi! and by fishing. They cultivate potatoes only. They receive, together with the other bands, an- nuities *'iom the government, in coin, provisions, salt, and tobacco, for which purpose they assemble annually, on the island of MichiiimacKinac. The name of this chief is believed to be a corruption fiom Hans. AiociiESCo, an Indian settlement of Chulipa, Mexico. lias 400 [ndian families. Ai'icTiTf.AX, ib. Has 70 ditto. AioziNAPA, ib. Has 34 ditto. A'OZivGO, ib. Has 120 ditto. Anir< OS, a nation of Indims inhal)iling the plains of Cazanare and Meta in the new kingdom of Grenada, to the east of the mountains of Bogota. They inhabit the banks of the river Ele. Thfy are numerous and warlike, and feared by all their neighbours, for their valour and dex- terity in the use of arms. In 10G2 Antonio do Monteverde, a Jesuit, es- tablished a mission among them, and baptized numbers. AiSiiQiAOi NAiifK. A Chippewa chief, of some note, of a mild and dig- nified carriage, living on Grand Traverse B.iy, on the east shores of lake Michigan. In 1830 he formed a part ol the delegation of ("hippewa and Ottowa chiefs, who procee lei to W.ishington city, and concludi'd a treaty ceding their lands to the U. S. from Grand river on lake Michioan, to Chocolate river on lake Superior. I'he name signifies, the first feather, or feather of honour. The population of his village in IS40, as shown by the ct-nsus rolls, was 207, of whom 51 were men, or heads of families, 49 women, and 107 children. They receive annuities annually at Michili- mackinac. 'i'hey subsist by the chase, by planting corn, beans and puta toes, and by fishing. AisMKFi!i:r; Kozir, or the Flat Mouth, called Uuelle Platte, in the patois of the Fur Trade, 'i'he Head chief of the band of the Chippewas, called Mukimdwas or Pilligers, who are situated at Leech Lake, on the sources of the Mississifipi. This band, it is estimated, can furnish 200 warricis. they are a brave and warlike people, and are at perpelUiil war with their western neighbours, the Sioux. They subsist by the chase, and by tak* ing white fish in the lake. Some cum and potatoes are also raised by the women and the old and sujierannuated men of the band. They area fierce, wild, untamed race, strong in their numbers, and proud and confiilimt in their succi'.«s in war, and the comparative ease with which they procure si subsistence from the chase. They adhere to their ancient religious cere- 1 KTHNOLOOV. 251 e sonici'8 wnnicis. wiili their 11(1 ly tiiU* seJ by tho 10 a fioi ce, :)iifiil('rit ill procure a rjous cere- monies and incnntutions, iind are ntidor the government of their native priest.*, joss ik'ods and seeis. Aishkebuiiekozh, h.iS for nuiny yeuis exer- cised the political sway over them, leading them, sometimes to war, and presi ling, at all limes, in their councils. He 'S a shrewd man, of much observation and experience in the atlairs of the frontiers. He is of a larye, rather st.nil frame, broid shoulde.s and chest, and broad face, with a somewhat Stern coinitenauce, denoting decision of character and capa- city to command. Thin and e.xtended lips, parted in a rif^ht line over a prominent jiw, ren(Jer the name, which his people have bi'Stowed on him, chaiacteiistic. By the term Kozh, instead of O loan, the true meaning of it is rather muzzle, or snout, than mouth, a distinction which the French have preserved in the term Guel/e. Aii:iN"s, a nation of Indians, of the government of Cinalon, New Spain. They live in the north part of the province. They formeily dwelt in lofty mountains, to escape the eflecis of war with other nations. In IG24, the Jesuits established a mission amongst them. They are docile, well in- clined, and of good habits. AiVTLA, a S'ttlement of New Spain, containing 187 Indian families. Another location of the same name contains 23 families. A.ion;s, a tribe of Indians of Louisiana, in its ancient e.xtent, while it e.xisted under the governmimt of the French. The word,as e.xprf ssed in English orthography, is lowas, and thetiibe will be considered under tlmt head. AKfi-iA, an Odjibwa chief, living on the peninsula of Grand Traverse Bay, lake Michigan, known for his good will towards the mission esta- blished near his villige, by the American Board, in 1833. In the recess periods of hunting, he is attentive on the means of instruction furnished at that station. He enjoins on his children attendance at the school. He bestows a punctual care in planting his corn-fieid and garden. He has erected a good dwelling house of logs, and supplied it with several articles of plain household furnitiiie. He is of a mild and pleasing character, and appreciates and acknowledges tlie superiority of agriculture and civi- lization over the uncertainties of the chase. Without distinction in war, or eloquence, or a genealogy of warriors lo refer to, and consequently, of but little general note or fame in his tribe, he is an active hunter, and stal)Ie. temperate man, and may be regarded as a fair average specimen, physically and mentally, of the race. The band of Akosa mustered IGO souls, on the pay rolls of 1810. of which number, 37 were men. 42 women, and 89 children. 'J'hey receive their annuities at IVlichilimackinac. Akan.sa, a synonym of Arkansas. At-AiiAMA, one of the United State;5 of America. The name is derived from a tribe of Indians, who formerly inhabited the banks of the river of the same name This river, on its junction with the Tnmbigbee, forms the Mobile. The Alabama Indians, were succeeded in tJie occupancy of this 252 ETHNOLOGY. river by the Creoles, or Muscogecs. They withdrew towards the west In 1790 their descendants lived in a village, eligibly situated, on several swelling green hills on the banks of the Mississippi. No accounts of them are given in recent reports. They appear to have continued their route westward by the way of Ked River. The precise period of their cross- ing the Mississippi is not known. They came to Red River about the same time as the Eolixies and Appalaches. Their language is represented to be the Mobilian, as denominated by Du Pratz, that is the Chacta. Part of them lived, at the end of the 18th century, on Red River, si.xteen miles above Bayou Rapide. Thence they went higher up the stream, and set- tled near the Caddoes, where they raised good crops of corn. An- other pjity, of about 40 men, lived in Apalousas district, where they cultivated corn, raised and kept horses, hogs and cattle, and exhibited a quiet and pacific character. From a statement published in a paper, at Houston, the seat of government of Texas, in 1840, their descendants were then settled on the river Trinity, in that republic, where they are as- sociated with the Coshattas, forming two villages, numbering two hundred warriors, or about 1000 souls. They preserve, in this new location, the pacific and agricultural traits noticed during their residence in Lousiana. Alacuu.'v, an extensive level prairie, in Florida, about 75 miles west of St. Augustine. The ancient Indian town of Alachua, stood on hs bor- ders, but its inhabitants removed to a more healthful position at Cusco- willa. Alaclatzala, a settlement in the district of St. Lewis, New Spain, con- taining 125 Indian families. Alahuitzt.an, ib. a settlement having 270 Indian families. Alapaiia, one of the higher tributary streams of the Suwannee river, in Florida. Ar.ASKE, or Onalaska, a long peninsula on the N. W. coast of America. At its termination, are a number of islands, which form a part of the clus- ter called the northern Archepelago. ALBAUiiADA, a settlement of Indians in the kingdom of Chile, situated on the shores of the river Cauchupil. Also a settlement of New Spain, containing 22 Indian families. ALKMriGo.N improperly written for Nipigon, a small lake north of lake Superior. Alfaxaiuca, a settlement of Now Spain, ontaining 171 Indian fami lies. Algansee, a township of the county of Branch, Michigan. It is a compound derivative from Algonkin, i^rtw, a particle denoting a lake, and mushcodainse, a prairie. ALCiic, an adjective term used by the writer, to denote a genus or family of tribes who take their characteristic from the use of the Algonquin Ian- " ETHNOLOQT. S54 le west several 1 of them ■ nr route I >ir cross- bout the )rescnted a. Part 1 3en miles and set- 1 n. An- 1 ere they heen instiui'tt!.! in various aits, aiiJ ciroi'liiilly riviliziil. TIhtc, tl.tir ilt-si-cnJ mils Mill remain. They ari' a t.ill, activf, slin-vvil, liilu-, (•nfrj,'ic race I'art IfS ol III irni liavo Ih'i'ii t'liifaift'd as vov.iircis an> liiiiitc IS, wiiliMi mo- (ItMii tiini'S, ami itnl in i\w prusccillion of the fur trade into the rniioic for o.sis ol iliL' iioitli-wt'st. In tlu'so postilions, tlii:y liavr inanifcsicd a ilffjiro of nici'i^'V. hai'ciihoo.l, and skill in llie cliu^f, liir licyond llmi po>s<'s»trY inii^'Lions basket an. I head woik, in wliicli tlio dyed (]iiills of the porfiij)ino, aii.l viirioii.s coloured Leads of Eiiiopean nianiifai-tnre, are employed. Tliey also make (inj,'er riiijfS out of niooso iiair, taken from the breast tiif't of this animal, in whii-ji mottoes or devices ore worked They have molodioiis soft voices, in chantiny; the hymns siiMu at the mission. This tiihe is e. illcl ( )Ii.i!ikii i^ricm, that is, I'loplo- nt theeiiil of-lhi'-w. Iters, hy tilt; Oljihwas. They we,e called Adiron- daeks, hy the Si.K Nations. The term Al!,n)n(,iiin, which we derive from tile Ficncli, is not of certain elymolojjy. It appears at first to have het-n a ?iiim ill' <;iirrn: for the paitictilar peo|)le, or trihe, whose descendants are now cimfined to the position at the Lake of 'I'wo Monntains. It was early npplieii to all the tribes of kindred oriifin. An ! is now u jreneric teim Ibi n fiMiilv or primitive stock of tribes in Noitli America, who either speak cojTiKite dialects, or assimilate in the Itadinij priiiciple.r of their lanijiiages. The number of these tribes still e.visliiii.'', is very lare;t', and viewed in the jioiiits of their greatest dilfl'rence. tht; variations in the consonantal and diidi'lionual sounds of their lansjiiages. are consiilerable As a p'tieial o<,naphical area, these tribes, at various periods from about KHIU, to tl pt' le present time, ettinojrrapliically covered ttie j il\ Atlantic St, ( rom the northern extremity of I'amlico-sound to ilie Straits of IJidlislo, exteiidiiiiif west and north-west, to the banks of the Mi.^sinlpi of Hnlson's Hay, and to the e;ist borders of tlie Mississippi, as low as the jniiciiun o( the Ohio. From this area, the principal e.vceptions are the lio(|iiois of New V'ork, the Wvaiuidts west, and tiie Winnobagocs and small bands of ilu; Doco- talis. The grammatical principles of these dialects, coincide. Asa ci ne- ral fict, in their lexicography the letters f, r and v are wanting. 'J'lie dialects derive their pecniiaiities, in a great measure, fiom inteichantres lietwecii the soiunls of I and n. b iinil p. d and t, g and k, in some of wiiicli, theie is a variance even in distant bands ol the same trib< 'I'he b ni'iiaije IS transpositive. In its conjugations. tb |)i()noiiiis are incorporated w •ith the veili. either as prcfi.ses or suflixes. Its substantives are piovided with adjective inflections, ib notine ;l, ticiiu tlic 0, i>xtciiili"S |,rs Hay, aiiii ol (li.-Ohio. Nrw VdiU, of tlu! Ho'"- As a e<'n*5- n^in-^ 'I''"' iniiMolmiiL'ts Licol' Nvlii''^>i ln>e laiiooage Huiiatfd svKli puniiW'J willi on tilt- cnhcr [,, lost M<^l>t «fi c„on I'etwpon U 18 leinark- Hbln for the variety of its compoiiiKis, nltlioii^li tli<; vocatailary itst'lT, is iiiunifcstly cotiMU la'icd from iiioiiosylf.iliic. roots. All il.i siilistantivcs odinit ot (liiiiitiiitivi'H, lait, in no iiustaiire, of aiigrncntalivi!), Tlicy also sdinit of (luio/ii/ii, while the fiiriner em- ploy /an. Ill old eiicyclopanli.is and gazeiti'ers, the phrase Algoiupi nen- sis. is used. 'j"he term Aberiiaiiiiis. is also a French fnodc of annotation for the sime word, but is rather ajiplied at this time to a specific 'mid. 'l"he word .\lgic, deiived fniii the same root, has been ajiplied by tlio wiitei to till' entire circle of tiie .AlgniKpiin t.ibes, in their iitmo.M former t'.xteiit ill Noth Ameiica. !Mi'. (ilallilin has pioposul the term '• Aliioekin- IjI'Ii ipe." lis M pbiiologiciil (Iciii'iiiiii.ition for ibis important fiimilv- 'I'lieir own n im-' tor tln' race, is a ([Wisiioii of some diveisily ofopiiiioii. Tiiose piiticul.ii iiibrs, who W(>re loiiii.i on the Allititic cii.ist between tiie Chesa- piMk-liiv and till' llii'lsim. cilii'd tlieiiisflves li'iiiipis. gi;iieialiv \\\\\\ the prefi.xed (II (jii ilifving homo of l.iiwin, or I.rnr.d. ()l(ier tribes e.xtiniiing' Dver tile I irgcsi iiiea ol iln' m.!:i!). and el \] i'v^li .America, inbriliird by (his stock, lii'iiati' ilifi'iseivi'S .IS a rtn', by the li'.''n Anisliiiiiiba, lliut I8, the common | ecple. 'i'he teim J,,iii;i|ic, si',ni.fi( .V' •! ;i',i|r, and is idi'ii-lical in sens'j with the i:'- I ii' I I' 256 ETHNOLOGY. Algonquin word laba. If Lcnno, or Linno be, as some contend, a term denoting oriifinal, they must bo conceded to liave had more forethought, «nd a greater capacity for generalization, than other slocks have mani- Tested, by calling themselves. Original Men. If, ' owever, it only implies, as others acquainted with tiiia language, assert, rommun or gr/irral, then it there p(!rceived to be a perfect identity in the meaning of the two terms. Aloonap, a village of the county of St. Clair, Michigan, which is pleasantly situated on the banks of the river St Clair. It is a term de- rived fioin the word yVlgonqum, and a/cf, earth or land. Aujo.NQUiNENSis, a term used in old gazetteers and geographical die .lonaries, for the Algonqiiins. Aliktans, a name for the Shoshones, or Snake Indians. See letnns, Alibamons, or AunAMiLS, ancient forms of orthography for the tribe of the Alubamas. Alin'a, a settlement of Pinzandarc, New Spain, containing 20 Indian families, who have a commerce in maize and wa.x. Ar.it'KoNcK, an Indian village which, in 1G59, stood on the east banks of the river Hudson, between the influx of the Croton, then called by the Dutch Saehkill, and the Indian village of Sing Sing. [Osin.sing.] Anee- bikong? place of leaves, or rich foliage. AtxcA, an ancient province of the kingdom of Peru, south of Ciiczo, in- habited by a race of natives, who made a vigorous stand against Manco Capac, the fourth emperor of the Incas, and called the conquerur. In this defence, they were favoured by the rugged character of the country, which abounds in woods, mountains, lakes, and gold and silver mines. Allfoan, an agricultural and milling county of the state of Michigan, bordering on the east shores of lake Michigan. It is a derivative word, from Algonkin, and gan the penultimate syllable of the OJjibwa term Sa-gi-e-gan, a lake. Allkghany, the leading chain of mountains of the United States east of the Mississippi, also one of the two principal sources of the Ohio river. Indian tradition attributes the origin of this name to an ancient race of In- dians who were called Tallegewy, or Allegewy. This nation, tradition asserts, had spread themselves east of the Mississippi and of the Ohio. They were a warlike people, and defended themselves in long and bloody wars, but were overpowered and driven south by a confederacy of tribes, whose descendants still exist in the Algonquin and lioquois stocks. Such is the account of the Delawares. Almoi.oia, a settlement of Zultepec in New Spain, of 77 Indian families j ftiSO, in Aletepec, in the same kingdom, of 156 fumihcs. BTRNOLOa-r. 257 ^ a term tbougbt, ,1! mani- ,/, then i> •0 terms, which is a term ile- pliical die ee letnns. [lo iribe of T 20 Indian B ensl banks called by the sing.l A-nee- „ of C.iczo, in- .guinst Manco |onqo(-AN, a settlement of Indians of Cuyo, in Chili, situated along the shores of a river. Amozaque, a settlement of Pueblo de los Angelos, in a hot and dry tem- perature, containing 586 Indian families. AMroNE.«, a barbarous nation of Indians, in Paraguay. They inhabit the forest to the south of the Rio de la Plata. They are of small stiiture. They are divided into several tribes. They are courageous. They live on wild tropical fruits, and on fish which are taken in certain ImIvl'S. They preserve these by smoking. They enjoy a fine country and dimiite. They find gold in the sand of their rivers, and have some traffic with the city of Conception. Some converts have been made to the Cath olic faith. AMirrs, a settlement and silver mine of San Luis de In Paz, in Mexicc, it has 43 Indian families, besides 93 of Mustees and Mullatoes.' They subsist by digging in the mines. Amurcas, a nation of barbarous Indians, descended from the Panches, in New Grenada. They live in the forests to the south of the river Mag- dalena. But little is known of them. Amuskeao, the Indian name of a fall m the river Merrimack, New Hampshire, 16 miles below Concord, and 7 miles below Hookset falls. Ana, Santa. Of the fifty-five names of places in Mexico, or New Spain, mentioned by Alcedo, which bear this name, seven are the seat of a joint pnpulation of 544 Indian families. Of these, 31 are in Zaqualpa ; 117 in Zultepec; 124 in Toluca ; 134 in Cholula ; 18 in Yautepec ; 25 in Mitia; 70 in Amaqueca ; and 149 in Huehuetlan. Anahuac, the ancient Indian name of New Spain, or Mexico. The valley of Mexico, or Tenochtitlan, is, according to Humboldt, situated in the centre of the cordillera of Anahuac. This valley is of an oval form. Its lentjth is 19J leagues, estimating from the entry of the Rio Tenango into lake Chaico to the foot of the Cerro de Sincoque, and 12^ leagues in breadth, from St. Gabriel to the sources of the Rio de Escapusalco. Its territorial extent is 244^ square leagues, of which only 22 square leagues 260 ETHNOLOGY. i.'l i' 1 : i are occupied hj lakes, being; less tliau a tenth of the whole surrice. The circumference of the valley, estiinatina; around the crest of the mountains, is G7 leagues This crest is very elevated in most parts, ami embraces the great volcanoes of La Puebla, Popocatepetl, and I^tacchihuatl. There are five lakes in this valley, of which, that of Tezcuco is the largest. All are much diminished in the quantity of water they yield, since the IGth century, which is owing, in part, to the destruction of trees by the Span- iards, but most directly to the canal of Huehuetoco, cut through a motin- taiii, by which the w-aters are drawn into the river Panuco, and thus find their way into the Atlantic. By this work, the city of Mexico itself was freed from all cflects of periodical inundation, and the site enlarged and rendered better suited to streets and carriages. The waters of lake Tez- cuco are impregnated with muriate and carbonate of soda. Those of Xoch'miico are the most pure and limpid. Humboldt found their specific gravity to be 1.0009, when distilled water at the temperature of 54° Fahrenheit, was 1.000, and that of Tezcuco 1.0215. Of the five lakes mentioned, Xochimiico and Chalco contain Gi square leagues; Tezcuco, lOfVi San Christoval, S/jj and Zumpango, 1^\. The valley is a basin, surrounded by an elevated wall of porphyry moun- tains. The bottom of this basin is 2,277 metres, or 7,4G8 feet above the sea. Anai-co, a settlement of Guadala.xara, in Mexico, conta'ning 40 Indian families. Anasagumtakook, a band of the Abenaki, on the sources of the Andros- coggin, in Maine. Anca.makes, a nation of Indians inhabiting the shores of the river Ma- dera. They are very warlike and robust. In 1G83 they attacked the Portuguese, and compelled them to give up the navigation of the river. They are divided into different tribes. The most numerous are the Au- camares, who inhabit the shores of the river Cayari. Ancas, a nation of Indians in Peru, who, on the Gth January, 1725, were overwhelmed and destroyed by the ruins of a mountain which burst forth by an earthquake. Fifteen thousand souls perished on th, it occasion, Ancio, or Hanck's band of Chippewas, living at Point St. Ignace, on the straits of Michilimackinac, in Michigan. This band, in IS'IO, as do- noted by the annuity pay rolls, numbered 103 ; of whom, 33 were men, 64 women, and lOG children. They subsist in part by liunting the small furred animals still existing in tlic country, and in part by fishing. They migrate from place to place, as the season varies, plant very little, and are addicted to the use of ardent spirits. Ancl'itk, an island on the southwest coast of FloriJn; also, a river flowing into the gulf at that locality, which is also culled, in the Seminole dialect, the Est-hns-hotea ■ TTf V "^'nf ■■ V'T ETHNOLOGT. 261 !. The untains, •uces the There est. All the lOih ho Spiin- a moiin- thus find itself was iro'eJ aim Like Tez- Those of cir specific ue of 54° 1 (jh sq«fi^e [>;ingo, Wa- liyry moun- i feet above itr 40 Indian '.-3 the Andros- [hc river Ma- attMcUed ihe of the river, are ihc An- Lnimry, 1725, 1,1 xvhich hurst th.it occasion. I St. Ignace, on In IS'IO, as do- 33 w ( if-'i. ■Vn iimrtwiiiiwiuim ETHNOLOaY. i ; i! . hh :|i This preponderance of the native Indian population is still more strik ing in the government of Uaxcalu, which, of course, includes the capital above named. In 1793, it contained a population of 59,177 souls; of which, 42,878 were Indians, divided into 21,849 males, and 21,029 females. The town is governed by a Caciqiio, and four Indian Alcaldes, who represent the ancient heads of the four quarters, still called Tc^epecti- pac, Ocotelalco, (iuiahtnitztlan, and Tizatlan. By virtue of a royal cedula of IGth April, 158j, the whites have no seat in the municipality. The Cacique, or Indian Governor, enjoys the honors of an alfcnz real. Not- withstanding the zeal of a Spanish intendant general, the progress of the inhabitants in industry and prosperity has been extremely slow. The se- cret of this is, perhaps, revealed in the fact that four fifths of the whole property belongs to mort-main proprietors, that is to say, to commnnit;.es of monks, to chapters, corporations, and hospitals. Their trade is also de- pressed by the enormous price of carriage from the table lands, and the want of beasts of burden. The geology and antiquities of this part of Mexico, are equally interest- ing. The intendency of Puebla is traversed by the high Cordilleras of Anahuac, which, beyond the 18th degree of latitude, spreads into a plain, elevated from 1,800 to 2,000 metres above the level of the ocean, or from 5,905 to 6.5G1 feet. In this intendency is also the Popocatepetl, the high est mountain in Mexico. Humboldt's measurement of this volcano make^ it 600 metres (1,9GS feet,) higher than the most elevated summit of the old continent. It is, indeed, only exceeded between Panama and Behring's Straits, by Mt. St. Elias. The table land of Puebla exhibits remarkable vestiges of ancient civn ization. The fortifications of Tlaxcala are posterior in the date of then construction to the great pyramid of Cholula. This pyramid, or teocalh, is the most stupendous monument erected by the race. Its squares art arranged in exact accordance with the astronomical parallels. It is cori structed in stages or terraces, the highest of which is 177 feet above tht plain. It has a base of 1423 feet. By a passage excavated into the norn side of it, a few years ago, it is found to be solid, and to consist of alternait layers of brick and clay. Its centre has not, however, been reached It- height e.xceeds the third of the great Egyptian pyramids of the group oi Ghiza. In its base, however, it e.xceeds that of all other edifices found by travellers in the old continent ; it is almost double that of the great pyra- mid of Cheops. To conceive of the vastness of the structure, let the tra- veller imagine a square four times the size of the Place Vendome, piled up with brick, in terraces, twice the utmost height of the palace of the Louvre. The Indians of the province of Tlaxcala speak three languages, differ- ing from one another, namely; the Mexican, Totonac, and Tlapanac. The first is peculiar to the inhabitants of Puebla, Cholula, and Tlascalla ; ETHNOLOGY. e strik mis ; of I'ociU'Cl'- ty. 'l"l>e ■al. Not- ess of the The se- tlje whole > is also Je- .ds, anil the lily interest- jrdiUeras of into a plain, ean, ov t'vom ,t.il, the hioh olcano makes- ummit of the nd Behi-ing'^ ancient civn date of then ,id, or teocalh. Its squares nr* Is. It >s '^"" I feet above tht into the noni List of allernai. In reached l'^ If the group d [\itices found by the i^reat pyra- tnre, let the tra- Ven'Aoine, piled [o palace of the luvnia-es, tlitfer- I ani> >l* lis by this ice, on the ;reat delta, !self, by its idian popu- ner gnvcrn- ji families ; Covonaiigo, ,f the era of ucumciils of the province Ls. AnolhT nta Maria, in orto and the 00. In ar. „HS " within ut at, 20,280. U^ APALLACHfANS ; a nation of Indians who formerly inhabited the ex- treme southern portion of the United States, and iiavc left their name in die leading range of the Apallachian mountains. In 1539 De Soto found ihem in Florida, a term at that era comprehending also the entire area of the present states of Alabama, I\!ississij)pi, Louisiana, and other portions of the southern territory. They were numerous, fierce, and valorous. They were clothed in the skins of wild beasts. They u.sed bows and arrows, clubs and spears. They did not, as many nations of barbarians do, poison their darts. They were temperate, drinking only water. They did not niake wars on slight pretences, or for avarice, but to repress at- tacks, or remedy injustice. They treated their prisoners with humanity, and like other persons of their households. They were long lived, some persons reaching a hundred years. They worshipped the sun, to which they sang hymns, morning and evening. These facts are to be gleaned from the narrative. What were their numbers, how far they extended •heir jurisdiction, what were their affiliations by language, customs, and institutions with other tribes, cannot be accurately decided. Much that is said of their civil and military polity, building.s, ceremonies and other traits, applies to the Floridiun Indians generally, and may be dismissed as either vague, or not characteristic of the Appalachians. A quarto vol- ume was published in London in IGGG, by John Davics, under the title of a " History of the Caribby Indians," in which he traces the caribs of the northern groups of the West Indies, to the ApiiUachians, and relates many incidents, and narrates a series of surprising wars and battles, reaching, in their effects, through the Mississippi valley up to the great lakes, which have the appearance of fable. How much of this account, which speaks of " cattle" and " herds," may be grafted on ancient tra- ditions, it is impossible to tell. There are some proofs of such an an- cient civilisation in the Ohio valley and other sections of the country, but they are unconnected with any Indian traditions, which have survived, unless we consider the mounds and remains of antique forts as monu- mental evidences of these reputed wars. The Lenapee accourits of these ancient wars with the Tallagees or Allegewy, may be thought to refer to this ancient people, who had, if this conjecture be correct, extended their dominion to the middle and northern latitudes of the present area of the United States, prior to tin; appearance of the Algonquin and Iro quies races. Mr. Irving has suiru;esleii tli(! name of Apallachia, or Alle gunia, derived from the sloek, for this division of the continent. II , 265 i^oMaaMhi P- j|(«l : H 7\ :m LANGUAGE. LECTURES ON THE GRAMMATICAL STRUCTL RE OF THE INDIAN LANCJUAGE. The course of lectures, of which the following are part, were delivertti before the St. Mary's committee of the Algic Sociity. Two of them only have been published. They are here continued from the aiticle " Indimi Languages," at page 202 of the "Narnilive of tlie Discovery of the actual Source of the Mississippi, in Itascc Tjalce," published by the Harjieis, in 1834. The family of languag''s Si.-locted as the topic of inquiry, is the Algonquin. All the examples employed are drawn from that particular typo of it which is called Chippewa, in our transactions with them, but which they uniformly pronounce theniM Ives, Od-jib-wa. 'J'hese terms are employed a." perfect synonyms. The phrase ■' Odjibwa-Algonquin," wherever it occurs, is intended to link, in the mind of the itKiiiirer. the species and the genus (if we may borrow a term fiom natural history) of the language, but is not fraught with, or intended to convey, any additional idea. The three terms '•f-lnte to one and the same people. LECTURE III. Obspfvalioim on itio Ailjeclive — It.s (listin:.'lioii info two clu-ssrs donotrd liy tlip prpsonre or ubsciieo of vitality — E.vaniplrs of tin; nniiiiatrs and iriaiiiiiiate.s — Mode of tliiir coiivfrsion iiitosiibstuiitivcs — IIow pronouns aro applied lo llirse derivatives, and tlin manner of forming onmponnd terms from adjective bases, fo describe the varions natu- ral pliinoinina — 'I'lie application of llicfe principles in common conversation, and ni the dese'ljHiDn of natnral and artificial objects — Adjectives always preserve the dis- tinction of nnnd)er — Numural.s — Arithmetical capacity of the language — The unit exists '■ duplicate. 1. It iias been ror; arked that the distinction of words into animates and inanimates, is a p; in iple intimately interwoven throughout the structurt of the lantiuage. It is, in fact, so deeply imprinted iqxin its graiTunaticai forms, ami is so perpetually recurring, that it may be looked upon, not oniy as forming a striking peculiarity of the language, but as constituting the fundamental principle of iis structure, from which all other rules have derived their limits, and to which they have been made to conform. No class of words aj^peais to have escaped its impress. Whatever concords 2()(j t!l 7i - ■•^:l '■•itf,''..iJi I UK tU'livcriii liem only I " liuliiiii the iiclual iDipeis, in liiy. is li>e jr.irtiiMilar I thcut. but liese tfiins ilironciii'm," iKluiitr. tlifi history) of ly adilitionul \,v the vrcsnirn -Moilo of tlii'it viilives. ami tll«^ various natn- oisaliDii, »"P *1'^- ,r,.g(— The unit niunwt.'S niiA ih(> stiMicturt \i,rA vipon, not •,s coi\>litiUiiii^ thcr rvili'? Ii'^^'" .•on form. No lU'vov conoorus '2(i6 1^ t; LANGUAGE. 267 Other laws impose, they all agree, and arc made subservient in the estab* lishment of this. It might Jippeur to be a useless distinction in the adjective, when the substantive is tiiiis nniiked ; but it will be rocoliectL-d that it is in the plural of the substantive only, that the distinction is marked. And we shall presently have occasion to show, that redundancy of forms, are, to considerable extent, obviated in practice. For the origin of the principle itself, we need lookoniy to nature, which en- dows animate bodies with animate properties and rjualitios, and vice versa. But it is due tothclribcs wiio speak this language, to have in verited one set of adjective symbols to express the ideas peculiarly appropriate to the former, and another set applicable, exclusively, to the latter; and to have given the words good and bad, black and white, great and small, handsome and ugly, such modifications as arc practically competent to indicate the ge- neral nature of the objtjcts referred to, whether provided with, or destitute of the vital principle. And not only so, but by the figurative use of these forms, to exalt inanimate masses into the class of living beings, or to strip the latter of the properties of life — a principle of much importance to their p\iblic speakers. This distinction is shown in the following examples, in which it will be observed, that the inflection izzi, generally denotes the personal, and a» urt, or icud, the impersonal forms. Adj Inaniiiuitc. Adj: Animate. Bad Monaud ud Monaud izzi. Ugly Gushkoonaug vvud Gushkoonaug oozzi Beautiful Bishegaindaug wud Bishegaindaug oozzi. Strong Song ua Sftng izzi. Soft Nok un Nok izzi. Hard Mushkow au Mushkow izzi. Smooth Shoiskw au Shoisk oozzi. Black Mukkuddiiw au Mukkuddiiw izzi. White Waubishk au Waubishk izzi. Yellow Ozahw au Ozahw izzi. Red Mi>kw au Miskw izzi. Blue Ozhahwushkw au Ozhahwushkw izzi. Sour Sheew un Sheew izzi. Sweet Weeshkob un Weeshkob izzi. Light Naung un Naung izzi. It is not, however, in all cases, by mere modifications of the adjective tliat these distinctions are e.vpressed. Words totally different in sound, and cvidi (itly derived from radically dilTercnt roots, are, in some few instan- ces, employed, as in the following exampkis : "im 'Jv- i uf\ ■^kt^-'^fT I 268 'Ij ! Good Bud Large Small Old LANGUAGE. Adj : Inaniinate. Oiiislieshia Monaudud MitNlmu Pungee Adj: Animate. Minno. Miuljee. Mindiddo. Uggiiushi. Citizzi. GeckaiJ It may be remarked of these forms, that altiiongh tiie impersonal will, in some instances, take the pcisona! inflections, the rule is not reciprocated, and minno, and mindiddo, and i^itizzi, and all words similarly situated, remain uiH'hangeahly animates, The word pnngee, is limited to the expression of quantity, and its correspondent nggaushi, to size, or quality, Kishc dii, (hot) is restricted to the heat of a fire ; keezliatitii, to the heat of the sun. There is still a tliiid term to indicate (he natural heat of the body, Kizzlzoo. Mitshau (larg( ) is generally applied to countries, lakes, riv- ers, «Sic. Mindiildo, to the body, and gitshee, indiscriminately, Onishi- shin, and its correspondent onishishshii, signify, handsome or fair, as well as good. Kw(inau;lj a. a. an 1 kwonau.lj ewun a. i, mean, strictly, hand- some, and imply nothing further. Mirnio, is the ap|)ropriate personal form for good. Miidgce and monaudud, may reciprocally change gen- ders, ilie lii,-^! by the additiim of i-d-c, and the second by altering i«^ to izzi. Distinctions of this kind are of considerable importance in a practical point of view, and their observance or neglect, are noticed with scrupulous exactness by the Iiuliaiis. 7'ho want of inanimate forms to such words ns haj)py, sorrowful, brave, sick dec. creates no confusion; as inanimate nouns cannot, strictly speaking, take upon themselves such qualities, and when they do — as they sometimes do, by one of those extravagant figures of speech, which are used in their tales of transformations, the animate forms answer all purjitses. Fur in these tales the whole material creation may be clothed with animation. The rule, as exhibited in practice, is limited, with suflicient accuracy, to. the boundaries prescribed by nature. To avoid a repetition of forms, were the noun and the adjective both to be employed in their usual relation, the latter is endowed with a pronomi- nal, or substantive inflection. And the use of the noun, in its separate form, is thus wholly superceded. Thus onishishin, a. i. and onishishsha, a. a. become Wanishishing, that which is gooJ, or fiir, and Wanish- ishid, he who is good or fiir. The following e.xamples will exhibit this rule, under each of its forms. Compound or Noun-Adjective Animate, Black Mukkuddaw izzi Makuddaw izzid. White Waubishk izzi Wyaubishk izzid. Yellow Ozahw izzi Wazauw i//id. Red Miskw izzi Mashk oozzid. Strong Song izzi Song izzid, il will, in J, remain xpvession Kishc cat of the the body, lakes, riv- Oiiishi- nil-, as well cily, lia'^'i- ic personal hange gen- leiing ud' '» ,1 ji practical 1 scrupulous ,ch words ns iinate nouns s, and when ui figures of uimatc forms creation may :e, is limited, ure. iuctive both to th a pronomi- in its separate I onishishsha, and Wanish- II exhibit this izzid. |lv i/zii- i//.id. I oozzid. izzii mmimum 270 LANGUAGE. stiiticrs. Siinnuheml is Imnl (to endiiro,) wainHiid, is rnsy (to perform.) Songcdiiu is hravc, Shiiugciliiii cownrilly, luc/liiiizhowiz/i, nctive, kizhe- kmi, xuift, oniuincgoo/zi lively, iiiinwainduiii Imppy, gufihkwainilnin, sor- rowful, l)Ut nil tlii'so forms are confined to tlw tinrd person of the indica- tive, sitiLinhir. Pibliigwan, is a rough or !;iioa<^d siibstiince. Pubbiggo- ozzi, a roiiirli person. Keenwau is long, oi tall, (any solid mass ) Kny- nozid ia a tall person. Tahkozid a short person. Wassa yau is light ; wassaiibizzoo, the light of the eye; wnsshnuzhii, the light of a star, or uny luminous body. Keenau is sharp, keenauli. id, a sharp kni'"'), or stone. Keezhanbikcday, is hot metal, a hot stove, &-c. Keezhaiigumineda, is hot water. AiibudgeetiJn, is useful, — a useful thing. Wauweeug is frivolous, any thing frivolous in word, or deed. Tubbushisb, appears to be a gene- ral term for low. Ishpimming is high in the air. Ishpau, is applied to any high fixture, as a house, Sec. Ishpuubikau is u high rock. Tuush- kaubikau, a split rock. These combinations and limitations meet the inquirer at every step. They are the current phrases of the language. They present short, ready, and often beautiful modes of expression. But as they shed light, both upon the idiom and genius of the language, I shall not scruple to add further examples and ilhi.strations. Ask a Chippewa, the name for rock, and he will answer «((■:// 'ii!c. The generic import of aubik, has been ex- plained. Ask him the name for red rock, and he will answer miskwau- bik, — for white rock, and ho will answer waubaubik, for black rock mukkudddwaubik, — for yellow rock, ozahwaubik, — for green rock, cz- hahwushkwaubik, — for blight rock, wassayaubik, for smooth rock, shois- hkwaubik, &,c. compounds in which the words red, white, black, yellow, &.C. unite with aubik. Pursue this inquiry and the following forms will be elicited. Impetsonal, Miskwaubik-ud. Waubaubik-ud. Mukkuddawaubik-ud. Ozahwaubik-ud. Wassayaubik-ud. Shoiskwaubik-ud. Miskwaubik-izzi. Waubaubik-izzi. Mukkuddiiwaubik-izzi. Ozahwaubik-izzi. Wassayaubik-izzi. Shoiskwaubik-izzi. Personal. It (is) a red rock. It (is) a white rock. It (is) a black rock. It (is) a yellow rock. It (is) a bright rock. It (is) a smooth rock. He (is) a red rock. He (is) a white rock. He (is) a black rock. He (is) a yellow rock. He (is) a bright rock. He (is) a smooth rock. Add bun to these terms, and they are made to have passed away, — pre- .asy (to pcrfoTin.) zzi, active, kizhe- (.hUvvuiriJum, sor- ,„„ of the iuilica- ance. PubbiggO" olul mass.) Kay kVassavnw '^ light ; ht of a star, or any up Uni'-), o-^ »^°"''- j.ugum.nedu, IS hot awecug is frivolous, nnears to be a gene- 'Jpau, is applh.'l to high rock, 'r^^^^- fiuirer at every step- They present short, ,t OS they shed light, hall not scruple to add va, the name for rock, of aubik, has been ex- will ansvver miskwau- Ubik, for black rock l.__for green rock, oz- I'for smooth rock, sbois- d, white, black, yellow, 'e following forms wiU la red rock. la while rock. ;i \,lack rock. a yellow rock. 1 a bright rock. a smooth rock. Is) a red rock, Is) a white rock. Is) a black rock. lis) a yellow rock. is) a bright rock. lis) a smooth rock. lo have passed away,-pter LANOUAOE. 271 fix tah to tliem, nml their future nppenrance is indicntefl. The word "is" ill tlie translntions, ultliouf^h marked with brackets, is not deenied wholly gratuiloi!.-). Tliere is, strictly speakinjf, on idea of exi-ili iice given to these compounila, by the particle uu in aubic, which seciii^ to bo indirectly a derivative from tbut great ond fundamental root of the language iuu. Bik, is, iippariMiily, the radix of the e.xpression for "ruck." Let this mode of interrogation be continued, and extended to other ad- jpctivrs, or the same adjectives applied to other objects, and results equally rc^Milar and numerous will bo obtained. Mimii. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 11.25 ■ 2.2 u ■ 4.0 12.0 <- Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MStO (716) S72-4S03 '^ r O^ 272 lanuuage:. prcssefl by some modification of the orlhogrnphy. Enough has been given to prove that the adjective combines itself with the substantive, the verb and the pronoun — that the combinations thus produced ore numerous, aflbrd concentrated modes of conveying ideas, and oftentimes happy terms of expression. Numerous and prevalent as these forms are, they do not. however, prechule the use of adjectives in their simple forms. The uso of the one, or of the other appears to be generally at the option of the speaker. In most cases brevity or euphony dictates the choice. Usage results from the application of these principles. There may be rules rest- ing upon a broader basis, but if so, they do not appear to be very obvious. Perhaps the simple adjectives arc oftencst employed before verbs and nouns, in the first and second persons singular. Ningee minno neebau-nabun, I have slept well. I have eaten a good meal. 1 have walked weII,ora good distance It (is) a very pleasant day. I have a handsome garment Are you well? What ails you ? J God prosper you. Ningee minno weesin, Ningee minno pimmoossay, Kiigiit minno geeghigud, Kwunaudj ningodahs, Ke minno iau nuh? Auneende ain deyun ? Keezhainonedo aupiidushsha- wainenik, Auofidush Shawaindaugoozze- i ^ i i i .. j ' ? Good luck attend you, yun, > Aupadush nau kinwainzh pim- maudizziyun, • May you live long. Onauneegoozzin, Be (thou) cheerful. No miuwaindum waubumaun, I (am) glad to see you, Kwanaudj Kweeweezains, Kiigat Songeedaa, Kiigat onishishsha, Gitshee kinOzce, U.ggausau biiwizzi, Gitshee sussaigau, Bishegaiiidaugooziwug wunu?, Ke duukoozzinuh? A pri tty boy. He (Is) a brave man. She (is) handsome. He (is) very tall. She (is) slender. He (is) fine dressed. i They (are) beautiful feather*. Are you sick. Monaudiid niaundunmuskcelcee, This (is) bad medicine. Monaiilii,! aindiiiiyun, My place of dwelling (is) ';ad. Aindauy.iun mitshau, My place of dwelling is large. 1S'« mitiigwaub onishishsha, My bow (is) good. Ne bikwiikftn monauJudOn, But my arrows (are) bad. ^o .niMwamdaun "PP^^l^oo^^" [ I i^ve mild, or mixed, tobacca legun, ) een given , the verb mmerous, ppy terms ey do not. The use on of the «. Usage rules vest- •y obvious, and nouns, od distance ent ihcrs. s) ^.ad. laigO. d. )bacca LARCnTAGB. 273 I- ) > But I never smoke pure totaeca Kanweekau neezhikay nssft- mau ne sugguswaunatisee, Monaudud maishkowaugumig, Strong drink (is) bad. Keeguhgee baudje^gonaun, k makes us foolish. Gitshee Monedo nebee oiree ) m^ r-, r. • • i . _ •* > The Great Spirit made water. oznetAn, ^ ^ Iniiu'ewuor dush ween ishk&d&- (But matt made whiskey. waubo ogeo ozhetftnahwaun These expressions are put down promiscuously, embracing verbs and nouns as they presented themselves; and without any effort to suppoit tho opinion — which may, or may not be correct — that the elementary forms of the adjectives are most commonly required before verbs and norms in the first and second persons. The English expression is thrown into In- diin in the most natural manner, and of course, without always giving adjective for adjective, or noun for noun. Thus, God is rendered, not " Monedo," but, " Geezha Morfedo," Merciful Spirit. Good luck, is ren- dered by the con minno piminuudizziwin, Minno pimmauJizziwin, Ne mudjpe pimmaudizziwin, Ke mudjee pimmaudizziwin, Mudjee pimmaudizziwin. My good tenor of life. Thy good tenor of life. His good tenor of life. My bad tenor of life. Thy bad tenor of life. His bad tenor of life. To place these forms in the comparative degree, nahwudj, more, is pre- fixed to tlie adjective ; and the superljitive is denoted by mahmowce, an ad- verb, or an adjective as it is variously applied, but the meaning of which, is, in this connexion, most. The degrees of comparison may be therefore set down as follows : — Pcsitive, Kisheda, Hot, (restricted to the heat of a fire.) Comp. Nahwudj Kisheda, More hot. Super. Mahmowee Kisheda, Most hot. Krt dizzihewabizziwin onishishin. Ke dizzhewabizziwin nahwudj onis- hishin. Ke dizzhewabizziwin mahmowe6 onishishin. ( Odizzhewabizziwin mahmowee onish- / ishinine. Mikkenokdns sOngedaabua Your manner of life is good. Your manner of life is better, Your manner of life is best. His manner of life is best, Little Turtle was brave, LANGUAGE. 27& ml dtjiorP snt. nt, &c. minno, good, verb, giving ich affect the 1], more, is pre- \hmowee,anai- (itig of which, ly be therefore Iheat of a fire.) onishishin. nahwudj onis- mahmowefi lahmoweeonish- Tecumseh was braver, Pontmc was bravest, 3. The adjective assumes adverb. Thus the phrase (veen abnged&Asee, he is not Positive. Neebwaukah, He is wise. Kwonaudjewe, She is handsome, Oskineegee, He is young. Shaugweewee, He is feeble. Geekkau, He is old. Mushkowizzi, He is strong. Tecumseh nahwidj sOnged&Abun. J^ontiac mahmowee sOnged&abua. a negative form when it is preceeded by tho sOngedaa, he is brave, is changed to, Kah- brave. Negative. ICahween neebwaukah-see, He is not wise. Kahween kwonaudjewe-se& She is not handsome. Kahween oskineegee-see He is not young. ICahween Shaugweewee-see, He is not feeble. Kahween Geekkau-see, He is not old. Kahween Mushkowizzi-see, He is not strong. From this rule the indeclinable adjectives — by which is meant those ad- jectives which do not put on the personal and impersonal forms by inflec- tion, but consist of radically different roots — ^form exceptions. Ke dahkoozzi nuh? Kahween ke dahkoozzi-see ! Ne minwaindum. Kahween ne minwuinduz-see Mudjee izzhewabizzi. Kahween mudjee a izzhewabizzirsee. Mitshau muggud. Kahween mitshau-seenfin. Are you sick ? you are not sick I I am happy. I am unhappy. His manner of life is bad. His manner of life is not bad. It is large. It is not large. In these examples the declinable adjectives are rendered negative in see. The indeclinable, remain as simple adjuncts to the verbs, and the latter put on the negative form. '4. In the hints and remarks which have now been furnished respect- ing the Chippewa adjective, its powers and inflections have been shown to run parallel with those of the substantive, in its separation into animates and inanimates, — in having the pronominal inflections, — in taking an in- flection for tense — (a topic, which, by the way, has been very cursorily passed over,) and in the numerous, modifications to form the compounds. This parallelism has also been mtimated to hold good with respect to number — a subject deeply interesting in itself, as it has its analogy only in the ancient languages, and it was therefore deemed best to defer giving ex- amples till they could be introduced without abstracting the attention from other points of discussion. 276 LAttaVAGK. Good apple. Handsome woman. Brave man. Beautiful bird. Yellow bee. Good apples. Handsome women. Brave men. Minno and mudjee, good and bad, being of the limited number of per- sonal adjectives, which modern usage permits being applied, although often improperly applied, to inanimate objects, they as well as a few other adjectives, form exceptions to the use of number. Whether we say a good man or a bad man, good men or bad men, the words minno and mudjee, remain the same. But all the declinable and coalescing adjectives — adjec- tives which join on, and, as it were, melt into the body of the substantive, take the usual plural inflections, and are governed by the same rules in regard to their use, as the substantive, personal adjectives requiring per* sonal plurals, &c. Adjectives Animate. Singular. Onishishewe mishemin, Kwonaudjewe eekwa, Songeddft inine, Bishegaindaugoozzi peenasee, Ozahwizzi ahmo, Plural. Onishishewe-wug mishemin-ug, Kwonaudjewe-wug eekwd-wug, Songedaa-wug inine-wug, Bishegaindaugoozzi-wugpeenasee-wug, Beautiful birds. Ozahwizzi-wug ahm-ftg. Yellow bees. Adjectives Inanimate. Singular. Onishishin mittig, Kwonaudj tshemaun, Monaudud ishkoda, Weeshkobun aidetaig, Plural. Onisbishin-6n mittig-dn, Kwonaudjewun-on tshemaun-un, Monaudud-6n ishkodan, Weeshkobun-6n aidetaig-in, Peculiar circumstances are supposed to exist, in order to render the uae of the adjective, in this connexion with the noun, necessary and proper. But in ordinary instances, as the narration of events, the noun would precede the adjective, and oftentimes, pnrticulirly where a second allusion to objects previously named became nccessiiry, the compound e.v pressions would be used. Thus instead of snying the yellow bee, way- zahwizzid, would distinctly convey the idea of that insect, had the species been before named. Under similar circumstances kainwaukoozzid, agau- Good tree. Handsome canoe. Bad fire. Sweet fruit. Good trees. Handsome canoes. Bad fires. Sweet fruits. LANGUAGE. 277 It of per- although few other jay a good d mudjee, ■es— adjec- lubstantive, le rules in [uiring pel* men. jnoes. to Tender the necessary and events, the noun where a second le compound ex- bellow bee, way- ci, had the speciei Lukoowid, agau- shcid sdngnunemiid, muslikowaiinoinud, would respectively signify, a tall tree, a small fly, a strong wind, a hard wind. And these terms would be- come plural in jiff, which, ns before mentioned, is u mere modification of ig, one of the five general animate plural inflections of the language. Kut,'at wahwiiKiudj abhenftjeeug, is an expression indicating l/wi/ are very hau'lsome children. Biibbeeweezheovvuir nionctOsug, denotes small inscctx. Minno neewugizzi, is good tempered, he is good tempered. Mawshininewiigizzi, is bad tempered, both having their plural in wug. Nin nuneenahwaindum, I am lonesome. Nin nuneenahwaindaumin, we (excluding you) are lonesome. Wawoea, is a term gent^rally used to express the adjective sense o{ round. Kwy, is the scalp. [Wrenikwy hvi scalp.) Hence Weewukwon, hat ; Wayweewukwonid, a wearer of the hat; and its plural Wayeewukwonidjig, wearers of the hats — the usual term applied to Europeans, or white men generally. These examples go to prove, tiiiU under every form in which the adjective can be traced, whether in its simplest or most compound state, it is susceptible of number. The numerals of the language are converted into adverbs, by the in- flection ing.1 making one, onre, «fcc. The unit exists in duplicate. Pazhik, One, general unit! . , ,. _ , ,., • 1 • J Aubeding, Once. lngoot,One,numerical unit j ° Neesh, Two. N is wee, Three. Neewin, Four. Naunun, Five. N'goodwaswii, Six. Neeshwauswii, Seven. Shwauswe, Eight. Shongusswc, Nine. Meetauswee, Ten. Neeshing, Twice. Nissing, Thrice. Neewing, Four-times. Nauning, Five-times. N'gooJwautshing, Six-times. Neeshwautshing, Seven-times, Shwautshing, Eight-times. Shongutshing, Nine-times. Mectaushing, Ten-times. These inflections can be carried as high as they can compute numbers They count decimally. After reaching ten, they repeat, ten and one, ten and two, &c. to twenty. Twenty is a compound signifying two tens, thirty, three tens, &.C., a mode which is carried up to one hundred }i'gooil- wak. Wak, then becomes the word of denomination, combining with the names of the digits, until they reach a thousand, /«',(■/««$«■««/>;, literally, /en hundred. Here a new compound terra is introduced made by prefixing twenty to the last denomination, neshtonnah duswak, which doubles the last term, thirty triples it, forty quadruples it, &c., till the computation reaches to ten thousand, n'goodwak dushing n'gooJwak, one hundred times one hundred. This is the probable extent of all certain computation. The term Gitshee, (great,) prefixed to the last denomination, leaves the number indefinite. There is no form of the numerals corresponding to second, third, fourth, &c. They can only further say, nilttim first, and ishkwaudj, las*. •'iHi''P LECTURE IV. Nature and principles of the pronoun — Its distinction into preformative and subfor matire classes — Personal pronouns — The distinction of an inclusive and exclusire form in the number of the first person plural — Modifications of the personal pronouns to im- ply existence, individuality, possession, ownership, position and other accidents-^Declen- ■ion of pronouns to answer the purpose of the auxiliary verbs — Subformatives, how employed, to mark the persons — Relative pronouns considered — Their application to the causative verbs — Demonstrative pronouns — ^their separation into two classes, animates and inanimates — Example of their use. Pronouns are buried, if we may so say, in the structure of the verb. In tracing them back to their primitive forms, through the almost infinite variety of modifications which they assume, in connexion with the verb, substantive and adjective, it will facilitate analysis, to group them into preformative and subformative, which include the pronominal prefixes and suffixes, and which admit of the further distinction of separable and inseparable. By separable is intended those forms, which have a mean- ing by themselves, and are thus distinguished from the inflective and subformative pronouns, and pronominal particles significant only, in con- nection with another word. 1. Of the first class, are the personal pronouns Neen (I,) Keen (thou,) and Ween or O (he or she.) They are declined to form the plural per sons in the following manner : I, Neen. We We Thou, Keen. Ye He or She, Ween or O. They Here the plural persons are formed by a numerical inflection of the singular. The double plural of the first person, of which both the rule and examples have been incidentally given in the remarks on the substan- tive, is one of those peculiarities of the language, which may, perhaps, serve to aid in a comparison of it, with other dialects, kindred and foreign. As a mere :onventional agreement, for denoting whether the person ad- dressed, be included, or excluded, it may be regarded as an advantage to the language. It enables the speaker, by the change of a single conso- nant, to make a full and clear discrimination, and relieves the narration 278 Keen owind (in.) Neen owind (ex.) Keen owau. Ween owau. INDIAN LANGUAGES. 279 re wA subfor exclusive fonn ronoun* lo »•"- lenle-rDecleii- wmolWes, how )p\ication lo the agsee, auinmtee B of the verb. almost infinite with the verb, Dup them into minal prefixes separable and 11 have a mean- inflective and It only, in con- ,) Keen (thou,) the plural per owind (in.) jwind (ex.) |owau. owau. inflection of the Ich both the rule Is on the substan- . may, perhaps, Ired and foreign. et the person ad- , an advantage to af a single conse- rves the narration 278 from doubts and ambiguity, where doubts and ambiguity would otherwise oAcn e.xist. On the other hand, by accumulating distinctions, it loads tho memory with grammatical forms, and opens a door for improprieties of speech. We are not aware of any inconveniencios in the use of a gene- ral plural. But in the Indian it would produce confusion. And it is perhaps to that cautious desire of personal discrimination, which is so ap- piireiit in the structure of the language, that we should look for the roiv- son of the duplicate forms of this word. Once esUiblished, however, and both tiie distinction, and the necessity of a constant and strict atti-ntion to it, are very obvious and striking,'. How shall he address the Deity ? If he say — " Oar fat/ier who art in heaven" the inclusive form of " our" makes the Almighty one of the suppliants, or family. If he use the ex- clusive form, it throws him out of the family, and mnyembracn every liv- ing being but the Deity. Yet, neither of these forms can be used well in pruyer, as they cannot be applied dire(|fly to the object addressed. It is only when speaking of the Deity, under the narne of father, to other per- sons, that the inclusive and exclusive forms of the word "our" can be used. The dilemma may be obviated, by the use of a compound descrip> tive phrase — Wa & se mig o yun, signifying — thou who art the fa- THEii OF Ar.L. Or, universal father. In practice, however, the question is cut short, by those persons who have embraced Christianity. It has seemed to them, that by the use of either of the foregoing terms, the Deity would be thrown into too remote a relation to them, and I have observed, that, in prayer, they invariably ad- dress Him, by the term used by children for the father of a family, that is, NosA, my father The other personal pronouns undergo some peculiar changes, when employed as preformatives before nouns and verbs, which it is r ; '.rtant to remark. Thus neen, is sometimes rendered ne or nin, and somtfimes nim. Keen, is rendered ke or kin. In compound words the mere signs of the first and second pronouns, N and K, are employed. The use of ween is limited ; and the third person, singular and plural, is generally in- dicated by the sign, O. The particle suh added lo the complete forms of the disjunctive pro- nouns, imparts a verbal sense to them ; and appears in this instance, to be a succedaneurn for the substantive verb. Thus Neen, I, becomes Neensuh, it is I. Keen, thou, becomes Keensuh, it is thou, and Ween, he or she, Weensuh, it is he or she. This particle may also be added to the plural forms. Keenowind suh. Ncenowind suh. Kecnowa suh. Weenowau suh. It is we (in.) It is we (ex.) It is ye, or you. It is they. f I S80 INDIAN LANOUAOEB. If the word aittah be substituted for suh, a set of adverbial phrase* tr« formed. Neen aittah, I only. Keen aittah, Thou only. Ween aittah, He or she only. Necn uittuh wind. Keen aittnh wind. Keen uittuh wan, Ween aittah wou, Wo &,c. (cs.) Wedtc. (m) You fltc. They Ac. In like manner niltum first, and ishkwaudj lust, give rise to the follcv ing arrangement of the pronoun : Neen nittum, Keen nittum, Ween nittum, Keen nittum evvind, Neen nittum ewind, Keen nittum ewau, Ween nittum ewau, I first. You or thou first. He or she first. We first, (ill.) We first. (e.\.) Ye or you first. 'J'hey first. ISHKWAUDJ. Neen ishkwaudj. Keen ishkwaudj. Ween ishkwandj, Keenowind ishkwaudj, Neenowind ishkwaudj, Keenowau ishkwaudj, Weenowttu ishkwaudj, I last. Thou last. He or she last. We last (in.) We last (ex.) Ye or you last. They last. The disjunctive forms of the pronoun are also sometimes preserved be- fore verbs and adjectives. NEEZHIKA. Alone, (an.) Neen neezhika, I alone. Keen neezhika, Ween neezhika, Keenowind neezhika, Neenowind neezhika, Keenowau neezhika, Weenowau neezhika. Thou alone. He or she alone. We alone (in.) We alone (o.\.) Ye or you alone. They alone. To give these expressions a verbal form, the sulstantive verb, with i(s pronominal modifications, must be superadded. For instance, / am al<»ne, &c., is thus rendered : Neen neezhika nindyau, I am alone, x aumin. Keen neezhika keedyau. Thou art alone, x aum. Ween neezhika lyau, He or she is alone, &c. x ^vng. In the subjoined examples the nonn o\v, bodvi is chanjrcd to a verb, by tcj INDIAN LANOUAOE*. 981 18(!» »t« tC. («N ) Alc. IC follo'V prese ;rvcd W lo. vcvV, Willi its Ice, / ft"' "'""®' pin. ic. X wng. U to a verb, uj the permiiUition of tho vowel, changing u\v to nuw, which last takes the letter d beforo it, when the pronoun is prefixed. I am a man, ThoM art a man, lie is a man. We are men, (in.) We are men, (ex.) Ye are men, They are men, Neen nin dauw. Keen kn dauw. Weon uh weeh. Ko dauw we niin. Ne dauw we min. Kc dauw min. Weenowau ah wcch wiig. In tho translation of these expressions " man" is used as synonomous with person. If the specific term inine, had been introduced in the origi- nal, the meaning thereby conveyed would be, in this particular coiine.\ion. I am a man with respect to courage &c., in opposition to effeminncy. It would not be simply declarative of corporeal existence, but of existence in a particular stale or condition. In the following phrases, the modified forms, or the signs only., of the pronouns are used : N' debaindaun, Ke debaindaun, O debaindaun, N' debaindaun-in, Ke debuindnun-in, Ke debaindaun-ewau, O debaindaun-ewau, I own it. Thou ownest it. He or she owns it. We own it (ex.) We own it (in.) Ye own it. They own it. These examples are cited as e.xhibiting the manner in which the pre- fixed and preformative pronouns are employed, both in their full and con- tracted forms. To denote possession, nouns specifying the things pos- sessed, are required; and, what would not be anticipated, had not full examples of this species of declension been given in another place, tho purposes of distinction are not effected by a simple change of the pronoun, as / to mine, &c., but by a subformative inflection of the noun, which is thus made to have a reflective operation upon the pronoun speaker. It is believed that sufficient examples of this rule, in all the modifications of inflection, have been given under the head of the sulstiintive. But as the substantives employed to elicit these modifications were exclusively specific in their meaning, it may be proper here, in fuither illustration of an im- portant principle, to present a generic su!)Stantivc under their compound forms. I have selected for this purpose one of the primitives. Ii>.\u. is the absjtract term for existing matter. It is in the animate form and declarative. Its inani- mate correspondent is \v..kL These are two important roots. And thryare i-i;' curacy and precision. The particle gee added to the first, second, and third persons singular of the present tense, changes them to the perfect past, rendering I, thou, He, I did — have — or had. Thou didst, — hast — or hadst, He, or she did— have, or had. U gah^ be substituted for gee, the fiist future tense is formed, and the perfect past added to the first future, forms the conditional future. As the eye may prove an auxiliary in tho comprehension of forms, which are not familiar, the following tabular arrangement of them, is presented. First Person, I. Nin gee, • I did — have — had. Nin gah, I shall — will. Nin gah gee, I shall have — will have. Second Person, Thou. Ke gee, Thou didst — hast — hadst. Ke gah, Thou sholt— wilt. Ke gah gee. Thou shalt have — wilt have. Third Person, He, or She. ' He or she did — has — had. He or she did — has — haa. He or she shall have — will have. [(five in addition O gee, Ogah, O gah gee, The ptesent and imperfect tense of the potential mood, is formed by dau, and the perfect by gee, suffixed as in other instances. First Person, I. Nin dau, I may — car, &.c. Nin dau gee, I may have — can have, &c. 284 INDIAN LANGUAGES. Second Person, Ihou. Ke 'lau, Thou inayst — canst, &c. Ke dau gee, Thou mayst Iiave — canst have, &c. Third Person, He, or She. O dau, He 01- she maj' — can, &c. O dau gee, He or she may have^-can have, &,c. In conjugating the verbs through the plural persons, the singular terms for the pronoun remain, and they are rendered plural by a retro- spective action of the pronominal inflections of the verb. In this manner the pronoun-verb auxiliary, has a general application, and the necessity of double forms is avoiiled. The preceling observations are confined to the formative or prefixed pronouns. The inseparable sufli.xed or subforinative are as follows — Yaun, My. Yun, Thy. Id, or d. His, or hers. Yaung, Our. (ex.) Yung, Our. (in.) Yaig, Your. Waud, Their. These pronouns are exclusively employed as sufH.xes, — and as suffixes to the descriptive compound substantives, adjectives and verbs. Both the rule and examples have been stated under the head of the substantive, p. 43. and adjective, p. 81. Their application to the verb will be shown, as we proceed. 2. Relitive Pronouns. In a language which provides for the distinc- tions of person by particles prefixed or suffixed to the verb, it will scarcely be expected, that separate and independent relative pronouns should exist, or if snob are to be found, their use, as separate p.Trts of speech, must, it will have been anticipated, be quite limited — limited to simple interrogatory forms of expression, and not applicable to the indica- tive, or declaratory. Such will be found to be the fiict in the language under review ; and it will be perceived, from the subjoined examples, that in all instances, requiring the relative pronoun who, (,tiier than tiie simple interrogatory forms, this relation is indicated by the inflections of the verb, or adjective, &c. Nor does there appear to be any declension of the sep- arate pronoun, corresponding to tcfiose, and whom. The word Ahwaynain, may be said to be uniformly employed in the sense of 7vho, under the limitations we have mentioned. For instance. Who is there? Ahwaynain e-mah ai-aud? Who spoke? Ahwaynain kau keegcndood? Who tcld you ? Ahwaynain kau ween dumoak? '•/: T"r INDIAN LANOVAOES. 285 , &c. le, &c. • singular by a ret ro- lls manner e necessity or prefixed Hows — d as suffixes erbs. Both substantive, ill be shown, )r the distinc- verb, it will ive pronouns rate parts of d — limited to to the indica- thc language examples, that lan the simple ns of the verb, ion of the sep- nploycd in the ^or instance. d? loak 1 Who are you 1? Ahwaynain iau we yun ? Ahwaynain waynftnik? Who sent you ? Who is vour father? Ahwaynain kos? Who did it? Wliose (\oK 'J'llE FUENCH IN THE UlTER LAKES. Kk-wa-kons, ii chief of tht; straits of St. Mary s, told nic, (iiiriiitr an in- terview, ill IS27, that but seven jreiierations of red men h.ui passed away, since the Freiicli first appeared on tho-se straits. If wk take thi> (hite of Cartier's first visit to thi- St. Lawrence, as the era of their actjnairitance with this nation, A. 1.). 1534, we, shfiulJ hav(> ')i') y<'ars as the period of an Indian trcneiation. Shonld W(> take, instead of this, the time of La Salle's first arrival on the upper lakes, 1778. there would, on the contrary, be- but a fraction over 22 years for a generation. But neither of these periods, can be truly said to coincide with the probable era of the chief's historical reminiscences. The first is too early, the last too late. An average of the two, which is rei[Mired to apply thi> observation properly, gives 38 years as the Indian generation. This nearly assimilates it to the results among Europeans, Iraving 8 years excess. Further data would probably reduce this ; but it is a department in which we have so little material, that we must leave it till these be accumidate'i. It may be sii|)posed that the period of Indian longevity, before the introduction of ardent spirits, was equal, perhaps, a little superior, to that of the European ; but it did not exceed it, we think, by S years. Ke-wa kons, whom 1 knew vi :y well, was a man of shrewd sense, and respec'.able powt^rs of observation. He stated, at the same interview, that his tribe, who were of the Odjibwa type of the Algonquins. laid aside their Akeelcs. or clay coolcing-vesstds, at l/inf (inir.aud adopted in lii.'U of tlM-m, the liizht brass ki'ttle, which was more portal)le and permanent. And from th;it time, their sliill in pottery deidined, until, in our day, it is en- tin'ly lost. It is curious to reflect, that within the brief period of l.jO years, a living branch of coarse manufacture among them, has thus been transferted into an object of antiipiarian research. 'I'his fact, should make historians cautious in assigning very remote periods of antiijuity to the monumental evidences of bygoni! geiu'rations. It is by such considerations that we get a glimpse of some of the gene- ral j)rin'-ip|is which attended the early periods of discovery nnd settlement, in all pnts of the continent. Adventurers came to find gold, or furs, to amass wealth, gel p(nver, or to p(i, were so much superior to their own, that tiiey, at oni'e, (H.-icontinui li sucli ruiie arts as thev j)rarti,rri lalitirles. New adveiiturer.s liillowed in tht! track' of Coin in- lU? Au>i vi of various sjiecies, and jiipes carveii (jiu of seatites and other soft materials. Mr. Anderson remarks in his biograpliy of Catharine Brown, that " the Cherokees are said to jiosstss a lanjjua' in tho tuniuli. nv,-.-.us'lH s.>a ;uid Other soft IJrovvn, that |n,v pr.cisc and uf ihoui^^ht, or K'Vtris his peo- Lund of r does lesion of 'SV\ch\- L ni'i-hl.ourius Icanor, wi'd> l''S ls,t uniTVtMnoui- 11,,'dlholilll'^"^'^ „nl)lc, hy ai.H'-— „• ih'Mr Lfi-o u-th," .-..,^^uA-V\OSSINS, OR IMACiE STONES. The nativo tril)os wlio occupy the borders of tho throat lakes, nrp vorv intronious in converting to tln' uses of i^uperstition, isnch masses o( jnose rock', or l*onlii».'r stones, as iiavc Ikmii fritted by tiie action of water into shapes resembling the trunks of liuniun boliis, nr oilier oriranic forms. There appi'ars, ;it all time?;, to liavi; lieen a ready disposition to turn such in;isscs of rude natural sculpture, so to call tliem, to tin idnliitrous use ; as well us a most ingenious tact, in aiding Uie clllx't of the natural resemblance, hy dots or dabs of paint, to denote eyis, and other features, or by rings of red ochre, around theii- circuiiiference, iiy way of orna- ment. In the following figures, 1,2, 3, 4, 5. some of these masses are repre- sented. un his voice, in Nuiuher n. was hionglit to tiie oill.'t; of I'lO Li'iian Agi-nt ai Mici;:ii- in.if kiiiac iti 1^3.t, and jihiccd anion;;- i''je"~ of iiii-h.igo:.,-- iou''!. ;! ' , vlslti'is. It cansi.«teil id' a p.tiiinn of a '.cin v: u: i--- i" g!i'-i::s or LTain'- . from wl\ich both niii a ai.il f''kb[Kir WiTt- ii.'arlv -.1 • 'ot. evi^ti.ag i.miv m !r:ici', while the quarlzv portion predciminated, a!'.ii h d. !.y its si.'pi-ri ;• hiiidmss, resisted the elemental action. The mciile of the for;itMtii'0 mC .-nch masses is \i>rv well kn'i-.vii lo •.;i':.i!o'j;i,~t.^ rcsiiltinL,'-, in alnm.^t cverv case, frnm the unequal dc'^-iTe of hi,-diii'.--s I'd' various p, ins of a mass, siib- miui'd to an e([nal force of atliition, sucii as is ordinarily given hy tfio iijdi('avin;,i- and rolling force of waves on a laki', or ocean beach 'J"o tho natU'S. who are not pione to reason from cause toeHe'.t, such produ- tions appear wondeiful. All that is past compreli('nsion. or wondi'rfnl, is vttiihuted by ihein to the s'lpernatural agiaicy of sjiirits. The hunter or 291 . i ■: M^- C9-2 SlltNUAMA WOSSINS, UH IMACiK STONKh. tt:irrii)r, who is trnvelliiiL,'' along the const, and finds ono of lliese self- Si.nlpttiiJ'd stones, is not sure that it is not a direct interposition of his of those which were regarded as desert, and was probably but seldom stopped at. It was, indeed, little more than a few acres of botil lers and pebbles, accumulated on a limestone reef, and bear- ing a few stunted trees and shrubs. The water of the lake must, in high storms, have thrown its spray over this imaged stone. It was, in fine, one of i}i(isi> private places which an Indian might be supposed to have se- lected for bis secret worship. In No. 3. is fi^;ured an object of this kind, which was found in 1832, in the final ascent to the source of the Mississippi, on the right cape, in !iS(-eiidin!Ttbis s^tream into lac Traverse — at the distance of about 1000 miles above the falls of St. Anthony. I lamled at the point to see it, hav- ing heard, fioin my interpreter, that such an object was set up and dedi- cated to some unknown Manito there. It was a plea.^ant level point of land slKuled with trees, and bearing luxuriant grass and wild shrubbery and flowers. In the middle of this natural parterre the .stone waS placed, and was overtojiped by this growth, and thus concealed by it. A ring of red paint enci'cled it, at the firs^t narrowed point of its circumference, to 'rive it the resenittlance of a liunian neck : and there were some rude dabs to denote other features. The Indian is not precise in the matter of SIIINU.VUA W0S.SIN8, OK lMA»il; Sl't)M:.>S. i'J3 htse self- rin of his ,flii!ver in lljreS to 1)6 s not stag- ory of the i, and vice subject to precise ope- ones, which f M\iz-in-in- 1 It hazanling the foituno [1 secreted in this purpose, here an ofler- nade to it, or j)edition of the irior discovery 4uron. It was nd entablature . on the island, lake in plni" as desert, and lore than a few reef, and hear- ^ must, in high vas, in fine, one posed to have se- found in 183'2, le ri"ht cape, in of about 1000 lint to see it, hav- Igft npand dedi- It level point of wild shrubbery Lone was placed, L it. A ling of li-iicumference,to Iwrre some rude u the matter of proportion, eillier in liis (Jrawinir, or in liis atlMiijitsnt ^t.^tuary. I lo seizes upon some luiiiiite aiiil I'liaracti'iisiic tiait. ^vl^i^■h is at oinf MiiiiL-n nt lo de- note the speri.ei, anil tic is iMsily .s.itisfied ahinil llic rest, 'J'iiiis :i sihijiiu cross, with a s'trait lino (Voiti sliouulcr lo sImuMit. an i ;i lui. nr I'l.cle ahuvc. to scrvi' ilir a Ik' !i!. i.> llic syinl oi of tlir liiiinun Ii.iUpc . a.i . w .'.. 'nit any a.lj'iiii't of left, or li.m Is, ii ciniU nm line Im'( u iiii>i,ilcrii i >. uv thiiiif I'Isc — ctMtaiiily fur any oilier olijrit in ilic aiiim :1 oh ain n. \1.\EM()MC SYMBOLS OF THE NORTH AMLUU'AN INDlAiNS. C H A P T E 1{ I . PRELIMINARY llKMAHK:*. — SV.MI1()I.ICAL RKI'llKSl'.N TATIONS AM) lIlElSOIil.YrlllCS, ONK OI' TlIF KAHl.lESr OUSKllVKD TIIAIIS IN TIIK CISIOMS AM) AHTS OF TIIK AM EllHAN AilOllI- taXKS; HL T I'llia AKT NOT 81 SPEOTEI) TO HAVE A SVKTEMA I'lC KOllM A.MONIi TIIK HI'DR IIINTEII TRII1K8 OF XOIITII AMERH^A, UNTIL THE YEAR 1820, WHEN IT WA8 UIH- COVERED ON THE BOfRCE OF THE MIR8IB8lrri. THIS INSTANCE GIVEN, WITH A DRAW- LNG : THE HINT PL'IISIJEI). Tmk practice of the North American tribes, of drawing figures and pictures on skins, trees, and various other substances, has been noticed by travellers and writers from the earliest times. Among the more north- erly tribes, tlieso figiiros ar(^ often obs.Mved on that common snlistitnte for the ancirnt pipyriis. ainoriL;- these nations, tlie l)ark of the helula jjujii/rnrea, or white birch: ii siibsiancn iiossessinga smooth surface, easily impressed, very fle.vible, and capahli.' of being preserved in rolls. (Jfteii these devi- ces are cnt. or drawn iii cdlours on the trunks of treis, more rarely on rocks or l.oiildors. According to Colden and Lafitou records of this rude character were formerly tobcb^Len ci.m the llazed surfaceof trees. aloiiLTSoini: of the anciiTit piths and portages leading from the sources of the Atlan- tic rivers into the intciior, or in tiu' valli'V of the St. Lawrence ; but these, after satisfying a transient curiosity, have long since yielded to the general fate of these simple and unenduring luoiiiiinents. Pictures and symbols of tlii.^ kind ar(; now to be found only on the unreelaiined bdr- ders of the grent aiea west of the Alle^hanies and the Lakes, in the wide prairies n{ the we.st. or along the .Mi.ssouii am! the iipjier .Mis.si&- ti]ipi. It is known that tiich de\ ice.s were in ikn-, to Sdine extent, at the era of tile discoveiv. among iiio.-:t nt the tiil^es, situated 1 tiweeii the latitudes nl' the (M|!cs of Florid.i. aiiij Mud.-^nn".-^ li.iy. allhonnh they have l)een considered a;> more j)aiticiil:i:'ly charaetei istic dC the tiities of tlie Al'.,''oii. (|uin tv|)i'. In a few instmces, thes!> ['.ieidiial iii3eri|'.tiiins have been loiind to hi painted or staineij on the f,;ce.s ni' ro^'ks. or on Imse hoiilh.'iS, Mid still null";' rarely. deNires weie s.'iatclied or peeked into the .siiifiee. as ;s i'oniid to !'(■ the ca.s,' ^Mll at I 'I'-htdU aiiii \'eni:i.'.>. 'l'ho^e \\:\^ a;e intent 294 AUr OF I'K IlKIO WKITINO. on obscrvMtinris nf iliis kind, \^ ill liml fitriins nntl rude hiero'^'lyplnrs in vari:il)ly ai ihf iPic^-i'iil lime, on tlw irinvc posts which tniirlc ilw. yUcai of Indiim si'|iii|i'jiif ;it the wcxt nii I iioiih. The iintioiis who rov*> ovor the Wf.sli'iii piiiii its, inscrihf llitiri on the skins uf the ItiiirMo. iS'nilh of Intitmlo ■li'', till! Iiii'l; of ihn hir-h, whii'li fiiinishf.s nt once tin.' nrilp- rial of cinioi'S, tints, boxes. wMtei'-iiipjieis. and paj^er, constitutes i!ie com- moil initlinni of their exhibition. 'Jai.hts ol' Ii;iril wood arc ronlinc.l to such (li.'vifes as are enijiioyed by tlieir priests and prophets, and nieilinne- men; and these eharacters nniCoriniy assume a nioie mystical or suMcd import. 1)1!' the recent discovery, on one of tho tributaries of the Siis- qtieJKinna. of an Indian map, drawn on stone, with intermixed devices, a copy of which ii|)i)ears in the 1st volume of the collections of the Ili.stor- ical Conwnilteo of the American Philosophical Society, proves that stono was also employed in that branch of inscription. This discovery was on the area occupied by the Lenapees. Colden, ill his history of the Five Nations, • informs us that when, in IG'.»G, the Count de Fiontenac marched a well appointed army into the Iroquois country, with artillery and all other means of regular military ofl'ence, he found, on the banks of the Onondaga, now called Oswego river, a tree, on the trunk of which the Indians had depicted tho French army, and deposited two bundles of cut rushes at its foot, consisting of 1434 pieces — an act of defiance on their part, which was intended to in- form their invaders, that they would liave to encounter this number of warriors. In speakin.nf in another passage of the general traits of the Five Nations, he mentions the general custom prevalent among the Mo- hawks going to war, of painting, with red paint, on the trunk of a tree, such symbols, as might serve to denote the object of their e.vpedition. Among tlie devices was a canoe pointed towards the enemies' country. On their return, it was tl;t;ir practice to visit the same tree, or precinct, and denote thu re.^ult : tlio canoe being, in this case, drawn with its bows in the opposite direction. Lafitou, in his account of the nations ■•!' ("aiueda, make^ oliservations on this subject to which we shall more pariiiularly refer hereafter, which denote the general prevalence of the custom in that quarter. (Jtlier writers, dating as far back as Smith and de lire, bear a passing testimony to the e.xistence of this trait among the iiorlliern trib;\s. Few have however done more than notice it, and none are know'ti to have furnished any amount of connected details. A single element in the system attracted early notice. I allude to the institution of tfie Totem, which has been well known among the Al- gonquin tribes from the settlement of Canada. By this device, the early missionaries observed, that the natives marked their division of a tribe into clans, and of a clan into families, and the distinction was thus very clearly preserved. Affinities were denoted and kept up, long after tradi • London, 1747, p. 190. THi: ART OF PKTlRi: WHITINd. iOO ti(*ti li 1 1 i'l.li' I ill its ti'stiiiioiiy. 'I'liis ili-tlri'tidii, uliidi i^ ni.irkt;:! with illllrll .:f till' C»'lt.|illfy of hfi'li.lii' l";,ilillJL;.S ill lln- li'llilill S_\>lL|U, \\:iS Sl'l'R tn mill, til" :iriiif:. lilt! Iiiiii^rc, tiiid tlii' tr(i|iliirs of thi' cliiff iiinl wiirrior. It WIS liit. 'I'lii.s Kcmij wm! lint littlo >lt(iLis or L't'ciivtric dcvicf."; wcic driwn (in tliisu simple ts. to ili'Diite llie iiiiiiil"'r of iiii'ii In- hiiij .-.lain i)i Imtil it h. s (iiit I (Mil siiS|i('Ct>'il ill liny nolici .-i til w li! I ii had IIL'I'I >S, Ilia; 111! !■(.■ 'Va- •1 |iii'iiii-ia! aljiliabi't. Ill' a Sfiii'.s ■ f '111 ijilioir Ills fi^fiin?s, in , lii''li. I'v till' jii.\taii(i.''itioii oC .>yiiib'>ii' rcjiK X'litiin;' nets, as \v< 11 asolijfctd .•iimpli- ii'lj^iii •! fiiiriis, a sciirs i.i| dis- . wi'i f di iioti il : or ilial tlu' most proni- il actiiai. am! v: w- iiiti'oJiH ti^ii i jiiii.'tivi', vi't '.'■'■iH'riilly C'laiii'iMc 1 i llicilt Itli'Kl'.'lltS I if liCr. ddcat! 1 roll II I II' I'l't'onii I ai) as to lio tr iiismiltcil (Voiii (MIC iiciii'Caiioii to aii'ilh'N', iis lolly at li a^t a> the iiioiiiiihci.t an 1 fh ]icn|i|!' endiiriil. Ahovi' all. it \\a.»; not :iiiticipai(d that tlicif slmiild liavo til en fuiiiil.a.s will be uliscrvcil in tin; siiLsi'iini'iit d.t lils, a systi'in of sym- Iiolic notation for tlie songs and iin'antations of tin.' Indian inetas and jiritst.*, inaKiii T an ii|)pt'il to the nicinory for tlir prt"«:('i'vati()ii of laiiifiiair(}. r,'i-soi! s lanuliar with tlic st.ile ol tin; wt'st(.'Ui \\-\\»i ot tins continent, partictilaily in tliti liitrhcr nortln.'ni laiitu IcP, h.ive lonif liccn awar^' that th(> soiii,''S of tlie Indian priesthood, niul walicnoi'.s, woie siiii*^ fiotn a kind oC j'iotorial notation, made on harlc. It is a fact which has often come to iliscrvation of niilitarv olTic pcrforniinij diiti* s on tlio?!' frontier';. !iad of persons exercising occasional ilmiis in civil life, who have passed 'JiiMHixh their tt'rritarii>s Bit there is no class of persons to whom the fii't of such notations belncf made, is so well known, as tlic cla.>s of Indian traders and interpreters who visit or reside a part of the season at the Indian viila'^es. I haVe iiev(n' conveisi-d with any of this latter class of persons to whom th(' fact of such inscriptions, nsade in various ways, was net so funiliar as in their view to excite no surprise or even demand re- mark. My attention was first called l(j t!ii.' -^iiliiect in {."^'^O. In the sninnier of that year I was on an ex]i!oriiic; joniiicy throuirh the lake country. At (he inoiith of the small river Huron, on the hanks of Lake Superior, ,'liere was an Indian q;rav(' fenced around with siplinors, and protected itii mueli care. .At its I;, a I stood a post, or tabular stick, upon which ivas drawn the fieine of theaniinal which was the symbol of the clan to ivhich the. deceased chief bt lonycvl. Strok(>s of red paint were added to lenote, either the number of war parties in which he had been eni^ajred, or the number of scalps which he had actually taken from the enemy. The interpreter wlio accompanied lis, and who was himself tinctured with Indian Mood, srave the latter, as the true import of these marl.s. On (putting the river St. Louis, which flows into the head of the lake at the Fond dn Lac, to cross the summit dividingf its waters from those of 800 TIIK AUT Ol" I'K TURK WniTlNO. iho Mississippi, the wny led throiiifli liciivy nnd dense woods and swamps nnd the wcuther proved dark nnd rainy, so tlint, for ii couple cf diiys to gether, we hud sciircely a glimpse of the sun. The pnrty consisted of sixteen persons, with two Indian guidis ; bu'. the hitter, with ail their adroitmss in threading the maze, were eonipKlt ly at fault for nearly an entire day. At night wo lay down on ground eh valed but a few inches abovi- the level of the swamp. 'I'he m-xt moriiiiiL' n» we j)rep;ired to leave the camp, a small sheet of liirch bark coMi.iiiniiy de- vices was observed elevated on the top of a sapling, some .*< cr lu f 1 1 1 high. One etid of this pole was thrust firmly into the ground Iriiinii:: ii' the direction we weri' to go. On going up to this object, it w is* loiiiil, with the aid of tho inter|)reter, to be a symbolic record of thi^ circum- stances of our crossing this snuunit, and of the night's encampment at this spot. Each person was appropriately ilepicte(l,di!Iie ('. S. troops. He is drawn with a sword to denote his cfficm) TIIK ART OK PICTI hi: WRIT I NO. SO*; iwamps days w Ira ; bir. p\ii. ly i'l tl. v.iU'vi )riimi.' !>• liiiiiiv; >''■■ ^,r 10 I"' i.'iiiiiii;.' Ill ,:\» loilll'.i. 10 circvun- r, as we 11"- The, »iil'"''' til,, i-iicum- , a,iy of their rhii was ihc KS^K(\ of tne partj' lot.> bis omcia! rank. No, 2 demurs llio jn rsi>ii \vhi> dllii i I'fl in (|imlity nf Stcrotnry. lie jj rcprt'Si'Mti'il liuliliiii,' II Im No ;t ilciicili s ilii' tiroliMMst mill niiii- rr;ili)i,'ist ol tin- |Kirty. lie is ilrawri ui|li a liiiiiimi'i'. Nns 4 ill ' ."> are alt'iilios ; N'i> ♦">, tiif intiTpn'tiT. The jri'OM|) i.r (iLTiirr!* niinkfil '.' rt'pn'^' ni.' ci'/lii inliintrv Sill III I", rili'll of wliuni, ii:i fliowii ill ijrinip Nn in. w,i> iiriiuii with a iiiii«l»i! No, |.'» ■ii'imti'S tli;it liny li.'il ii >'i'paintr (lie, iiinl i'Mii»'iiiiii' I a sipiiaif iiu'Sm. H'.s 7 aiiil ^ iii'f ll;r two Chipprwa i.Miiilts. tin' ] niT-il'al 111 ',\iiiiiM, Fii;i rallt'il ( 'InniiTS. or the i'liuni iiiir Inwlc. !■ J tlic way hmt tin-. 'I.tai v Mr.;\- mil. 'J'lirsi' air ilii' iiiilv Iniiiiiii IIl'^hh > on tlli^ iiiiii|ii" I'aili Ic'ii i. \\\u> nri' (Ira nil wi limit a lial 'I'lii.s wa.s tin' cliaiiKMcrisii.' m i/i d mi liV -h I'm, mill i,'< I ifi'iii-rallv i':iii)l>Vi'il liv thi' Irilirs. to i|isiiii'_nii>'li 'hr I'l- 1 I'l'iiii liir w liili rac'iv rii,'iiri'.s II aiiil l\l |•t■pn•^'l■llt a praiiii' litii. ainl a yiicn |,iiIiiim>, whicli cmistifiiti'il tin'- sum of tin- pit'ct'ijiiiij^ day ■•* 'lia*'. ainl wtTi' fatfii at till' »'iicampiiifiit. Tin- iiu'liiialimi of tlic polf. \',a> i|i'si!.nir.l to show the course pursui'! fioiii that pirtii'iilar spot : iheic werr ihri'i' liai'kM in it. Iiilow llie scroll of hark, to indicate the estimainl !(ii;,'-th of this part (if the joiirni'y. coinputiiiij from water to water, that i.s to say, from the lii'ad of the poititre Aiix (>i)Uteauxoii the St. fjouis river, to the open shores of .Sandy lake, die F\a-iTia-ton-n:o-^'otn-aij of the Odjihwas. The story was thus liriefly and simply told ; and this memorial wab yet up hy the guides, to advertise any of their countrymen, who mit^ht chance to wander in that direction, of the adventure — for it wa.s evident, both from this tolien, and from the duliioiismse which Iiai! marked the prior day's wanderiii'fs. that they ri'.iarili'd the passage in this liL^ht, and icre willin'f to talce soini' cri'dit (or the succevsl'nl cxccinion of it. Rcfo ore we iiad pemtrate'l ipiite to tins .-■■inimut. we came to aiiothrr evidence of their slcill in this spccirs of kiiowicdL."', cmisi.^tinir dC (iiic iif tli.i?e contrivances which they denomiiiati^ Man-i-to-wati^ir. or .Manito P0I1.S. On reachinr^ this our irnidcs shonti'd. wlii'tluT iVmii a supersti- tions impulse, or the joy ol jiavint,' f h roiiini II Sliol tlicy rcrlailil mil , reC' orrnize, wo could not tell, AVr jiidyid the latter. It c.iii>i.'-tr 1 nf ci'^-ht poles, ot f'lpial len^tli, sh.aveit smooth an.l ro,iii;l. paintcMJ w .illi yelhn cure, an \ set so ns to enclose a Sfpiare area el' those rude temples, or |ilaces of ineanta 1 It :,pp.'; tiou 'It wi-rshi' to have 1 leen lllOWII to I le iiietas. or priests, where crrt.im riii s and ceitMnmues an- per Hut it rfornied. was not an ordm.arv medirme lodL'e, d lieeii t!ir mort cure 111 Its constructio!). ' >u reacliiii;r the viil i.^^' o!" Si fi:.'ures of ;iiii!n:iU, liii'ds, ■in I o'l liiis, or wi'ai)|ii;irs of t'r ! 0,1 I'le n;i',ier ler I'l" lei'S \^ el'' ',1 1. wnicii W-- e >',M:io lie! CUli' ts of t!i(> fort. anil ii'^"!! !i e open s':oi' '.\cre also obs ervi; lie e, IS ,11 other ,S of t!ie liu'S \'\ t'' Mississippi, tlio ill th-' 1 lide c()f- arminl t!ie prc- Si:iiilar devices i.m, upon their 'I 298 THK ART OP PICTUllK WRITING. arms, war-clubs, canoes, and other pieces of moveable property, as weL as upon their grave posts. In the descent of liie Mississippi, we observed such devices painted on a rock, below and near tiic montii of Elk river, and at a rocky island in tin; river, at the Little Falls. In the course of our descent to the Falls at St. Anthony, we observed another hark letter, iis the party now be;.'-an to call these inscriptions, suspended on a high pole, on wn elevated hank of the river, on its west shore. At this spot, where we encanijied fur the night, and which is just opposite a point oi' iiighly crystalized hornblende rock, called the Peace Rock, rising up through the prairie, there were h ft standing the poles or skeletons of a great number of Siou.x lodijes. it is near and a little west of the territorial boundary of the Sinux nation ; and on inspecting this scroll of bark, we found it had reference to a negocia- tion for bringing about a permanent peace between the Siou.x and Chippe- vvas. A large party of the former, from St. Peter's, headed by their ehiuf, had proceeded thus far, in the hope of nieetin** the Chippewa hunters, on their sununer hunt. They had been countenanced, or directed. in this step, by Col. Leavenworth, the commanding officer of the new post, just then about to be erected. The inscription, which was read ofTat once, by the Chippewa Chief Babosacundabee, who was with us, told all this ; it gave the name of the Chief who had led the party, and the ninnber of his followers, and gave that chief the first assurance he had, that his mis- sion for the same purpose, would be favourably received. After our arrival at St. Anthony's Falls, it was found that this systeni of picture writing was as familiar to the Dacotah, as we had found it imong the Algonquin race. At Prairie du Cbit.'n, and at (Ireen IJay, the same evidences were observed among the Monomonees, iuid the Win- nebagoes, at Chicago among the Pottowottomies, and at .Michiliinakinac, among the Chippewas and Ottawas who resort, in such numhers, to that Island. While at the latter place, on my return, I went to visit the grave of a noted chief of the Monomonee tribe, who had lieen known hy his French name of Toma, i. e. Thomas. He had been buried on the hill west of the village; and on looking at his Ad-je-da-tig or grave pisi. it bore a pictorial inscription, conunemorating some of the prominent achievements of his life. These hints served to direct my attention to the subject when I returned to the country in 1822. The figures of a deer,a bear, aturtle, and a crane, according to this system, stand resj)ectively ibr the names of men, and preserve the language very well, by yielding to the person convcismt with it. the corresponding words, of Addick, Muckwa, Mickenock, ami Adjei jauk. Marks, circles, or dots, of various kinds, may symboli/e the number of warlike deeds. Adjunct devices may typify or explain adjunot acts. If the system went no farther, the record would yield a kind of in- formation both gratifying and useful to one of his countrvmen who haJ THE ART OP PICTURE WIHTING. 299 ty, as weli paintcii on ocUy island lo the FiiUs now Vx'jjiin jviitnl Imiik iipcd I'oi- tii« i honiVilendu lere wero U It ,,,1,,-es. ll is : nation ; and lo a nrgocia- X and Chiiipc- by their chii'i', pcwa hunters, liiected.inlhis new post, just I off at once, by told all this ; it ,he ninnber of ^d, that his n>is- iit this systmn had found it at linen liay, and the ^Vin• i,:hiliiniil>'"'i*-'' iiiinl>ers, to that visit the LH-ave lservatiori, to denote that this mode of comnmnication was in vojfue, and well understood by the northern trihts ; l)ut it hardly seemed siisce|itil)le of a farther or extended use. It was ii.it till I had made a personal acfjuaintance with one of their Medas — a man of nnicli intelli- gence, and well versed in their customs, relijjion. and historv. tiiat a more enlarijed application of it appeared to be praiti'.ahle. 1 obst.'rv(.'d in the hands of this man a tabular piece of wood, covered over on l)otli sides, wi'h a series of devices cut between parallel lintis, wlii-h he referred to, as if they were the notes of his medicine and mysticd sony:s. I heard him sinir these sonp:s, and observed that their succession was fixed and uniform. By cuUivalirig- his acquaintance, and by suitable attention and presents, such as the occasion rendered proper, he consented to explain the meaning' of each fiafure, the ol>ject symbolized, and the words attached to each symbol. By this revr-lation, which was mide with closed doors, I became a mi^mber or initiate of the Medicine Society, and also of the Wabeno Society. Care was taken to write each sentence of the soncfs and chants in the Indian l.inpMai,''e, with its appropriate devices, and to subjoin a literal tr.inslation in English. When this had been done, and the system considered, it was very clear that the devices were mnemonic — that any per?on could sinq- from these devices, very accurately, what he hail pr vioiislv cominitfed to memory, and that the sv'em revealed a cu- rious scbeuip of symbolic notation. All the fitrures thus employed, as the initiatory points of study, related exclusivel',' to either the medicine dance, or the wabeno dance; and each .«ei'tinn of fiLHU'es. related exchisivelv tn one or the other, 'I'herc was no intermixture or comrnine'linir of characters, altlminrh the class of sol jecLs were sometimes coimnnn to each. It was perceived. ?n}i!!e(|ii(^ntiy. that 'his classification of symbols extetided to the sooii? devoted to \v:ir, to h'liilinj'. and to 'ither speciti(' to)>ics'. The entire insi-iiptive yy.-itern. reacli- iii" from its firs', ru limeiiSal ch'ir.acters. in the a l-ji'-da-ti'f. or e-rave Imiird. In the extended roll of baric covered with the iticriptions ni their ma<_ri- iiai):5 an I propliets. derived a new interest from ibis fi>atnre. It was easy to pe'Tcive that rmich conijiarative precision was imparted, to interpreta- tioar in tlir' hatids of the initiated, which before, or to others, had very litile. An interest was thus cast over it distinct from its ik veliy. And in t:utb. the entire pictorial system was thns invested with the character of isiihject of acnralc investigation, which ju'omised both interest and in- strtiction. It has been thouEfht that a simple stalemetit of these circumstances, would he.-,l answer the end in view, and nuvlit well occupy the place of a more (onu'il or profound introduction. In iaiivjin"; forward the elements it 'I It ■i Mil! ^i-'ift^ I u ! If 3C0 THE ART OF PICTURE WRITING. of the system, after much reflection, it is tliought, however, that a few re- marks on the general character of this art may not be out of place. For, simple as it is, we perceive in it the native succedaneum for letters. It is not only the sole graphic mode they have for communicating ideas, but it is the mode of commiiiiiealing all classes of ideas commonly entertained by theni — f^iioh as tlwMr ideas of war, of hunting, of religion, and of maijic and necrdmancy. So considered, it reveals a new and unsuspected mrMJe of ohtaiiiing light on their opinions of a deity, of the structure or cofinoiToiiy of the globe, of asironotny, the various classes of natural ob jccts, thi'ir ideas of inimoitality and a future state, and tlie prevalent no lions of the union of spiritual and material matter. So wide and varied, indeed, is the range opened by the subject, that we may consider the In- dian svsti'in of picture writing as the thread which ties up the scroll of the Red man's views of life and death, reveals the true theory of his hopes and fears, and denotes the relation he bears, in the secret chambers of his own thoughts, to his Maker. What a stoic and suspicious temper woe baso of the iridiind. Amund this circular wall, in the centre of this heavy anil darii|) mass of eailh, with its atmosphere of pt.'cnliar and pungent charactt-r. the skeI('ton>' and other disinterred artiides. are liiuig up for the gratification of visitiMS, the wholf a trib;^ con(piered or extinguished by the Irorpiois. We cannot .stop to inqmr(> into this tiict historically, fiirlher thati to sav. that it w,is the poiii;y of this people to adojit into their dili'erent tribes of the confederacy, the remnants of nations whom ihry coni|uered. and th.it it wa.s not probable, iherefoic. that the Erie.> were annihilated. Aor is it probable that they wia'e a jieople very remote in kindred and langiiago from the ancient Siiion lowaiis, or Senecas. who, it may be supposed, bv crushing them, destroyed and exterminated their name only, while tiiey sfreni;thiiied their nuinbers by this inter-adoption. In many old majis, this laiis callttl them, were overthrown in several decisive buttles on the St. Lawrence, lietween Montreal and Quebec, and compelled to fly west; they at first took shelter in this lake, and thus transferred their nume to it. With them, or ut least, at the same general era, came somo others of thi; tiihes who made a part of the people called l.y the French, Alufonquins. or Xipercineans, and who thus constituted tlie several iiihes, speakint;' u closely cn^-nate laniruafre, whose (Icscciuiants arc ieifirilrd hy ])hilolo<,n.. .Michigan is a deriv.itive from two Odjihwa-Algonquin words, signify- ing large, i. e. large in relation to masses in the inorganic kingdom, and a lake. The French called it, geneially, during the eavlitir periods of iht ir transactions, the lake of the illinese, or Illinois. Superior, the most northwesterly, and the largest of the series, is a term which a])peurs to have come into general use. at a comparaii\fly early era. after the jilanting of the Entrlish colonies. The French bestowed upon it. unsucces.sfully, one or two names, the last of which was Traci, after tbe I'Vcnch minister of this nami'. By the (Jdjibwa-Abjonquins, who at the period of the French discovery, and who still occupy its borders, it is called ( iiicli-[gomee, or 'I'he Rig Sea-water; from (jitchee, great, and guma, a generic term for boilirs of water. The term KUiMA, is an alihrevjateil form of this, suggested for adoption. The poftry of the Indians, is the poetry of naked thought. They have neither ryhme, nor metre to adorn it. Talcs and traditions occupy the place of books, with the Red Race. — They make up a kind of oral literature, which is resorted to, on long winter evenings, for the amusement of the lodge. The love of independenct; is so great with these tribes, that tliey have never been williu;,'- to load their politi '.'.I system with the forms of a rcgu- .ar government, for fear it might j)rovt! oppressive. To be Toverticl iind to be enslaved, aie ideas which have been con- fciinJed bv the Indians. ». I GEOGRAl^mCAL TERMINOLOGY OF THE U. STATES, |iEPaVi:i) FROM TIIR INDIAN LAMiVAUK. TViae E.elrnrlf nrc mn,lc from " C'irhipadia Jnitiacmis " a MS. vmk in prrparation. No. r. Hi i.«()\ IJivri;. — My tlu> lril>rs who iiili;iliitoil tlie aren of the present County (if IJlItl■ll('^sf», iiml other |)ortioiis of its eiistcrii b,uilv"S, as low down as 'I'app.in, this riviT was railed Shaletimc — w liicli is believed to be a de- rivative from Sliata,n pelican. 'I'he Minisi. who inhaliited the we.st banlcs, below the point (b.'noted, e.xtendiiiif indeed over all the eiist half of New Jersey, to the fdl.s of the Haritaii, where they joined their kindred the Lcnni Lenape, or Didawares proper, called it Mohican ittnek — that is to say. River of the Mohican.*. The Mohawks, anil probably the other branches of the Iroquois, callerl it Cahohatat(\i — a t(.Min of which the in- terpreters who have furnished the word, do not trivo an explanation. Tlic prefixed term Oaho. it may be observed, is their name f(jr the lower and principal falls of the Mohawk. Sometimes this prefix was doubled, with the particle Jin. thrown in between. Ilntatea is clearly one of those de- scriptive and alTirmative phrases reprosentiuLT objects in the ve.'retablo and mineral kintrdoins. which admitted as we see, in other instances of their compounds, a very wide range. I3y some of the more westerly Iro- quois, the river was called Sanataty. Ai.HANV. — The name bv which this place was known to the Iroquois, at an early day. was Schenectady, a term w hicli, as recently pronounced by a dauirhter of Brant, yet livini,'- in Canada, has the still harsher sound of Skoh-nek-ta-ti. with a str"?-s on the lirst. and the accent stronijly on the second syllalde. the third and fourth beiniif jironounced r.ipidly and short. Th(! transference of this name, to its present location, by the Ens' lish, on the bestowal on the; place liy Cv\. Nichols, of a new iiatne. derived from the Duke of Vork's Scottish title, is well known, and is stated, with some comiected traditions, liy .ludj^e IJenson, in his eccentric inemnir before the New Yfu-k Misto.ical Society. The meanini,'- of this name, as derived from the authority above (]Uoted. is Beyond the P'nirx, having been applied exclusively in ancient times, to the sou;! m:i end of the ancient portnire path, from the Mohawk to the Hudson. By the Mirici, who did not live here, but extended, however, on '.he west shore above Coxackie, and even Coeymans, it appeal* to have been called CJaishtinic. The Mohegans, who lonjT continued to occupy the present area of Reiis- gelear and Cidumbia counties, called it T'empotawnthut, that is to say, the City or Place of the Council Fire. None of these terms appear to ha\c 304 GEOGRAPHICAL TERMINOLOGY OP THE U. STATES. 305 rATES, i/iratwn. It vrry • the present ns low down :.,1 10 >ie a Je- ll west IvAVilcs, h;>ir of New • UiiiLlif'l ^^° ,clt__thnt is to ,My tlif "^^^•''^ wliich tlic iii- planiUion. The the lower and s clonl.led, witli [le ol' those ile- e veiietable and itances of their ,c westerly Iro- to the Iroquois, jiily prononnceil |l harsher sound .„t stronsjly "1^ .,.,1 vapi'lly and kon. I'V the F.n>,- [vvnaituMlerived 1, and is stated, ■cofnlvic rnenioit of this name, as P'nirs, havini? ,;, rnd of the l^y the Minci, west shore ahove ailed Claishtini.-. Int area of l^^ens- 1 that is to say, the IS appear u> have 30t fuiind favour with the European settlers, and, together with their prior names of Beaverwyck and Fort Orange, they at once gave way, in 1664, to the present name. A once noted eminence, three miles west, on the plains, i. e. Trader's Hill, was called Isutchera, or by prefixing the name for a hill, Yonondio Isutchera. It means the hiil of oil. Norman's Kill, which enters the Hudson a little below, the Mohawk.s called Towasontha, a term which is translated by Dr. Yates, to meaUj n place of many dead. Niagara. — It is not in unison, perhaps, with general expectation, to find that the exact translation of this name does not entirely fulfil poetic pre conception. By the term O-ne-aw-ga-ra, the Mohawks and their co-tribes described on the return of their war excursions, the neck of water which connects lake Erie with Ontario. The term is derived from their name for the human neck. Whether this term was designed to have, as many of their names do, a symbolic import, and to denote the importance of this communication in geography, as connecting the head and heart of the country, can only be conjectured. Nor is it, in this instance, probable. When Europeans came to see the gigantic falls which marked the strait, it was natural that they should have supposed the name descriptive of that particular feature, rather than the entire river and portage. We have been assured, however, that it is not their original name for the water-fall, although with them, as with us, it may have absorbed this meaning. Buffalo. — The name of this place in the Seneca, is Te-ho-sa-ro-ro, Its import is not stated. DETaoiT. — By the Wyandots, this place is called Teuchsagrondie ; by the Lake tribes of the Algic type, Wa-we-a-tun-ong : both terms sig- nify the Place of the turning or Turned Channel. It has been remarked by visiters who reach this place at night, or in dark weather, or are other- wise inattentive to the courses, that owing to the extraordinary involutions of the current the sun appears to rise in the wrong place. Chicago. — This name, in the Lake Algonquin dialects, to preserve the same mode of orthography, is derived from Chicagowunzh, the wild onion or leek. The orthography is French, as they were the discovereis and early settlers of this part of the west. Kaug, in these dialects is a porcupine, and She kaug a polecat. The analogies in these words are apparent, but whether the onion was named before or after the animal, must be judged if the age of the derivation be sought for. Tuscaloosa, a river of Alabama. From the Chacta words tuihka, a warrior, and lum black. — [Gallatin.] AuAGisKE, the Iroquois name for Virginia. Assarigoa, the name of the Six Nations for the Governor of Virginia. OwENAGUNGAS, a general name of the Iroquois for the New England Indians. Otsseonteo, a spring which is the head of the river Delaware. 20 H'-J! ;!{I;I.;J 306 GEOURAPIIICAL TEIIMINOLOGY OP THE U. STATES. Ontonagon ; a considerable river of lake Superior, noted from early times, for the large mass of native copper found on its banks. This name 'S said to have been derived from the following incident. It is known that there is a small bay and dead water for some distance within its mouth. In and out of this embayed water, the lake alternately flows, ac- cording to the influence of the winds, and other causes, upon its level. An Indian woman had left her wooden dish, or Onagon, on the sands, at the shore of this little bay, where she had been engaged. On coming back from her lodge, the outflowing current had carried oflT her valued utensil. Nia Nin-do-nau-gon ! she exclaimed, for it was a curious piece of workmanship. That is to say — Alns ! my dish I CnuAH-NAii-wHAH-HAH, or Valley of the Mountains. A ne.v pass in the Rocky Mountains, discovered within a few years. It is supposed to be in N. latitude about 40°. The western end of the valley gap is 30 miles wide, which narrows to 20 at its eastern termination, it then turns oblique to the north, and the opposing sides appear to close the pass, yet there is a narrow way quite to the foot of the mountain, On the summit there is a large beaver pond, which has outlets both ways, but the eastern stream dries early in the season, while there is a continuous flow of water west. In i»s course, it has several beautiful, but low cascades, and terminates in a placid and delightful stream. This pass is now used by emigrants. Aquidnkck.— The Narragansett name for Rhode Island. Roger Wil- liams observes, that he could never obtain the meaning of it from the na lives. The Dutch, as appears by a map of Novi Belgii published at Am- sterdam in 1659, called it Roode Eylant, or Red Island, from the autum- nal colour of its foliage. The present term, as is noticed, in Vol. III. of the Collections of the R. I. Hist. Soc. is derived from this. Incapatchow, a beautiful lake in the mountains at the sources of the river Hudson.— [Charles F. Hoffman, Esq.) HousATONic ; a river originating in the south-western part of Massa- chusetts, and flowing through the State of Connecticut into Long Island Sound, at Stratford It is a term of Mohegan origin. This tribe on retiring eastward from the banks of the Hudson, passed over the High-lands, into this inviting valley. We have no transmitted etymology of the term, and must rely on the general principles of their vocabulary. It appears to have been called the valley of the stream beyond the Mountains, from 071., the notarial sign of wudjo, a mountain, atun, a generic phrase for stream or channel, and ic, the inflection for locality. Wea-nud-nec. — The Indian name, as furnished by Mr. O'Sullivan, (D. Rev.] for Saddle Mountain, Massachusetts. It appears to be a deriva- tive from Wa-we-a, round, i. e. any thing round or crooked, in the inini* mate creation. Ma-iiai-wi; ; The Mohegan term, as given by Mr. Bryant [N, Y. £. I'] for Great Barrington, Berkshire County, Massachusetts. ES. from early This name [t is known e within its ly flows, ne- on its level, the sands, at On coming ff her valued cutieas piece e.v pass in the supposed to be ,ap is 30 miles n turns oblique iss, yet there is summit there is eastern stream f of water west. d terminates in a emigrants. J. Roger Wil f it from the na lublished at Am- from the autum- d, in Vol. Ill- of s. le sources of the •n part of Massa- into Long Island is tribe on retiring 5 High-lands, into 'ogy of the term, lulary. It appears K Mountains, from teneric phrase for Mr. O'SulUvan, Lrs to be a deriva- [oked, in tho in-^ni- ryantlN.Y.£.Vl Is. GEOGRAPHICAL TERMINOLOCV OF THE U. STATES. 307 Massachusetts. — This was not the name of a particular tribe, but a geographical term applied, it should seem, to that part of the shores of tho North Atlantic, which is swept by the tide setting into, and around tho peninsula of Cape Cod, and the wide range of coast trending southerly. It became a generic word, at an early day, for the tribes who inhabited thia coast. It is said to be a word of Narragansett origin, and to signify the Blue Hills. This is the account given of it by Roger Williams, v/ho was told, by the Indians, that it had its origin from the appearance of an island off the coast. It would be more in conformity to the general requisitions of ethnography, to denominate the language the New Eng- land-Algonquin, for there are such great resemblances in the vocabulary and such an identity in grammatical construction, in these tribes, that we are constantly in danger, by partial conclusions as to original supremacy, of doing injustice. The source of origin was doubtless west and south west, but we cannot stop at the Narragansetts, who were themselves deriva- tive from tribes still farther south. The general meaning given by Wil- liams seems, however, to be sustained, so far as can now be judged. The terminations in elt, and set, as well as those in at and aA', denoted locality in these various tribes. We see also, in the antipenultimate Chu, the root of Wudjo, a mountain. Ta-ha-wus, a very commanding elevation, several thousand feet above the sea, wliich has of late years, been discovered at the sources of the Hudson, and named Mount Marcy. It signifies, he splits the sky. — [Charles F. Hoffman, Esq.] Mo.NG, tho name of a distinguished chief of New England, as it appears to be recorded in the ancient pictorial inscription on the Dighton Rock, in Massachusetts, who flourisiied before the country was colonized by the English. He was both a war captain, and a propiiet, and employed the arts of the latter office, to increase his power and influence, in tlie former. Ry patient application of his ceremonial arts, ho secured the confidence of a large body of men, who were led on, in the attack on his enemies, by a man named Piz-hu. In this onset, it is claimed that he killed forty mt>n, and lost three. To the warrior who should be succcsful, in this on- tcrprize, he had promised his younger sister. [Such are the leading events symbolized by this inscription, of which extracts giving full details, as in- terpreted by an Indian chief, now living, and read before the Am. Ethno- logical Society, in 1843, will be furnished, in a subsequent number.] Tioga. — A stream, and a county of the State of New- York. From Tcoga, a swift current, exciting admiration. Dio.NDEROGA, an ancient name of the Mohawk tribe, for the site at the mouth of the Schoharie creek, where Fort Hunter was afterwards built [Col. W. L. Stone.] Ai.HoucHico, a generic name of the Indians for New England, as printed ■f ;li! hm I'- n ■'■ i 308 AMERICAN ANTiatlTIES, ETC. on the Amsterdam map of 1659, in which it is stated that it was thus " by d inwoonders genaemt." (So named by the natives.) luoroisiA, a name bestowed in the map, above quoted, on that portion of the present state of Vermont, which lies west of the Green Mountains, stretching along the eastern bunk of Lake Champiuin. By the applica- tion of the word, it is perceived that the French were not alone m the use they made of the apparently derivative term "Iroquois," which they gave to the (then) Five Nations. Snow. , Running water. \ A leaf The radix of behind «bc. NAMES OP THE SEASONS. The following are tne names of the four seasons, in the Odjibwa tongue : From Kone, « Seeg, « Anib, " Gwag, By adding the letter g to these terms, they are placed in the relation of ▼erbs in the future tense, but a limited future, and the terms then denote next winter, 6cc. Years, in their account of time, are counted by winters. There is no other term, but pe-boan, for a ycrr. The year consists of twelve lunar months, or moons. A moon is called Ge^zis, or when spoken of in contradistinction to the sun, Dibik Geezis, or night-sun The cardinal points are as follows. Pe-bon, Se-gwun, Ne-bin, Ta-gwa-gi, Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn, (a) North, Ke \v& din-ung. (4) South, shi wan-ung. {c) East, Wa bun-ung. id) West, Kd be un-ung. a. Kewadin is a compound derived from Ke-wa, to return, or come home, and nodin, the wind. b. Oshauw is, from a root not apparent, but which produces also ozau, yellow, dtc. c. Waban is from ab, or wab, liglit. d. Kabeun, is the name of a mythological person, who is spoken ol, in their fictions, as the father of the winds. The inflection ung, or oong, in each term, denotes course, olace, or locality. was thus «' by that portion of en Mountains, Jy the applica- lone in t\\e use ," whicli they in the OdjibwB ^5 water. \ dix of behind &c. 1 in the relation of terms then denote counted by winters^ ^e year consists ol Ge6zis, or when ot night-sun •ung. |n-ung. ing. •ung. to return, or come ,ot not apparent, but |omab,orwab,ligl^t. ho is spoken ol, in |ionung,oroong,m LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES OF THE WESTERN COUNTRY, AD0RX8SBD TO THK LATI WILLIAM L. STONE, EDITOK OV THB NEW TOSK COMMRRCIAL ADVERTISER. I. Wheeling (Va.), August 19th, 1843. I HAVE just accomplished the passage of the Alleghany mountains, in the direction from Baltimore to this place, and must say, that aside from the necessary fatigue of night riding, the pass from the Cumberland mountains and Laurel Hill is one of the easiest and most free from diinger of any known to me in this vast range. An excellent railroad now extends from Baltimore, by Frederick and Harper's Ferry, up the Potomac valley and its north branch quite to Cumberland, which is seated just under the mountains, whose peaks would seem to bar all further approach. The national road finds its way, however, through a gorge, and winds about where " Alps on Alps arise," till the whole vast and broad-backed elevation is passed, and we descend west, over a smooth, well constructed macadamized road, with a velocity which is some compensation for the toil of winding our way up. Uniontown is tlie fust principal place west. The Monongahela is crossed at Browns- ville, some forty miles above Pittsburgh, whence the road, which is 'everywhere well made and secured with fine stone bridges, culverts and viaducts, winds around a succession of most enchanting hills, till it enters a valley, winds up a few more hills, and brings the travellers out| on the banks of the Ohio, at this town 309 ;..» :f;( 1 310 LETTKlia ON THK ANTriliriTIFH Tlie rnlire ilistaiifi- iVoiii llie hcuti of tliL- ClR'.sa|H'iil;«' to tlip watpr» of tliu Oliio is not L'ssi'iitiiilly (litli'i'iiit from tliicc liundii-d m'lU'a. \Vu Wire less than two days in jKissiiij^ it, twenty-six lioiirs of which, part night and part day, wi'if spent in post-coucht's ht-twii-n Cumberland und this placo. IIurpei\ tViry is an inipressivt; scene, but h'ss so than it would be to a tourist wlio liad not his fancy excited by injudicious descriptions. To ine, the romance was quite taken awny hy drivin<; into it with a tremendous clattering power of steam. The geological structure of this section of country, from water to water, is not without an imj)ressive lesson. In rising from the Chesapeake waters the .striti- fiud rocks are lifted up, pointing west, or towards the Alleghanies, and after crossing the summit they point east, or directly contrary, like the two sides of the roof of a house, and leave the inevitable conclusion that the Alleghanies have been lifted up hy a lateral rent, as it were, at the relative point of the ridge pole. It is in this way that the granites and their congeners have been raised up into their present elevations I did not sec any evidence of that wave-like or undulatory structure, which was brought forward as a theory last year, in an able paper for warded by Professor Rogers, and read at the meeting of the British Asso- ciation for the Advancement of Science at Manchester. No organic remains are, 6f course, visible, in this particular section, at least until we strike the coal and iron-stone formation of Pittsburgh. But 1 have been renewedly impressed with the opinion, so very opposite to the present geofogical theory, that less than seven thousand years is suffi- cient, on scientific principles, to account for all the phenomena of fossil plants, shells, bones and organic remains, as well as the displacements, disruptions, subsidences and rising of strata, and other evidences of extensive physical changes and disturbances on the earth's surface. And I hope to live to see some American geologist build up a theory on just philosophical and scientific principles, which shall bear the test of truth. But you will, perhaps, be ready to think that I have felt more interest in the impressions of plants in stone, than is to be found in the field of waving corn before the eye. 1 have, however, by no means neglected the latter ; and can assure you that the crops of corn, wheat and other grains, throughout Maryland, Pennsylvania and Western Virginia, are excellent. Kven the highest valleys in the Alteghain'es are covered with crops of corn, or fields of stacked wheat and other grains. Gene- rally, the soil west of the mountains is more fertile. The influence of the great western limestones, as one of its original materials, and of the oxide of iron, is clearly denoted in heavier and more thrifty cornfields along the Monongahela and Ohio valleys. Of the Ohio River itself, one who had seen it in its full flow, in April and May, would hardly recognize it now. Shrunk in a volume far below its noble banks, with long spits of sand and gravel running almost or THE WK8TKKN COUNTRY. 311 Uip water* mill's. NVe >\hich, part ibtrliuitl uiiil MS HO Uiun it y injutViciou.-t ty liy ilrivin;; a not without i-is the Htnli- U.ghani»'S, and irary, like the .blc conclusion , OS it were, at It the granites il elevations atory structure, able paper for he British Asso- (.j_ ^'o organic n, at least until oh. Bull have "opposite to the ,i\ years is sulFi- nonicna of fossil L displacements, [her evidences of h's surface. And , a theory on just the test of truth, fflt more interest ,nd in the field of means neglected , ^^•heat and other islern Virginia, arc [allies are covered lier grains. Gene- The influence of materials, and of the e thrifty cornfields Its full flow, in April Ik in a volume fat lavel running almost Kcrosii It, and level sandy margins, uncc cuvt^red liy water, where armiea liii^ht now iiiaiueiivrc, it is liut tlit! .skeleton of iUrlf. SteuiiibuutH uf a hunilnd tons luirilen nuw Ncireely creep along it.s eliunnel, v\iiich would form coekbuats ir the lloating palaces tu he seen here in the daya of itii veinul and aulumiial glory. Truly yours, IIENUV U. COLCRAFT t n. Grave C»ekk Flats (Va.), August 23, 1S43. I HAVE devoted several days to the examination of the antiquities of this place and its vicinity, and find them to be of even more interest than was anticipated. The most promiin nt object of curiosity is the great tumulus, of which notices have appeared in western papers ; hut this heavy structure of earth is not isolated. It is but one of u series of mounds and other evidences of ancient occupation at this point, of more than ordinary interest. 1 liave visited and examined seven mounds, situated w ithin a short distance of each other. They occupy the summit level of a rich alluvial plain, stretching on the left or Virginia hank of the Ohio, between the junctions of Big and Little Grave Creeks with that stream. They appear to have been connected by low earthen rntreiichments, of which plain traces are still vi.sible on some parts of the commons. They included a well, stoned up in the usual manner, which is now filled with rubbish. The summit of this plain is prohahly seventy-five feet above the present sumuuT level of the Ohio. It constitutes the second bench, or rise of land, above the water. It is on this summit, and on one of the most elevated parts of it, that the great tumulus stands. It is in the shape of a broad cone, cut off at the apex, where it is some fifty feet acKKss. This area is (piite level, and commands a view of the entire plain, and of the river above and below, and the west shores of the Ohio in front. Any public transaction on this area would be visible to nuiltiludes around it, and it has, in this respect, all the advantages of the Mexican and Yucatanese teocalii. The cireumference of the base has been stated at a little under nine hundred feet ; the height is sixty-nine feet. The mo.4 interesting object of antiquarian inquiry is a small flat stone, inscribed with antique alphabetic characters, which was diselo.sed on the opening of the largfa niound. These characters are in the ancient rock al|i!)abct of sixteen right and acute angled single stokes, used by the Pela.sgi and other early Mediterranean nations, and which is the pareut m~>i I I;; 312 LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES of the modern Runic as well as the Bardic. It is now some four or fire years since the completion of the excavations, so far as they have; been made, and the discovery of this relic. Several copies of it soon got abroad, which difiered from each other, and, it was supposed, from the original. This conjecture is true ; neither the print published in the Cincinnati Gazette, in 1839, nor that in the American Pioneer, in 1843, is correct. I have terminated this uncertainty by taking copies by a scientific process, which does not leave the lines and figures to the uncertainty of man^s pencil. The existence of this ancient art here could hardly be admitted, other- wise than as an insulated fact, without some corroborative evidence, in habits and customs, which it would be reasonable to look for in the existing ruins of ancient occupancy. It is thought some such testimony has been found. I rode out yesterday three miles back to the range of high hills which encompass this sub-valley, to see a rude tower of stone standing on an elevated point, called Parr's point, which commands a view of the whole plain, and which appears to have been constructed as a watch-tower, or look-out, from which to descry an approaching enemy. It is much dilapidated. About six or seven feet of the work is still entire. It is circular, and composed of rough stones, laid with- out mortar, or the mark of a hammer. A heavy mass of fallen wall lies around, covering an area of some forty feet in diameter. Two similar points of observation, occupied by dilapidated towers, are represented to exist, one at the prominent summit of the Ohio and Grave Creek hills, and another on the promontory on the oppo,site side of the Ohio, in Belmont county, Ohio. It is known to all acquainted with the warlike habits of our Indians, that they never have evinced the foresight to post a regular sentry, and these rude towers may be regarded as of cotemporaneous age with the interment of the inscription. Several polished tubes of stone have been found, in one of the le.sser mounds, the use of which is not very apparent. One of these, now on my table, is 12 inches long, 1^ wide at one end, and 1^ at the other. It is made of a fine, compact, lead blue steatite, inottlcd, and has been constructed by boring, in the manner of a gun barrel. This boring is con- tinued to w ithin about three-eighths of an inch of the larger end, through which but a small aperture is left. If this small aperture be looked through, objects at a tlistance are more clearly seen. Whether it had this telescopic use, or others, the degree of art evinced in its construc- tion is far from rude. By inserting a wooden rod and valve, this tube would be converted into a powerful syphon, or syringe. I have not space to notice one or two additional traits, which serve to awaken new interest at this ancient point of aboriginal and apparently mixed settlement, and must omit them till my next. OP THE WESTERN COUNTRY. 313 III. Grave Creek Flats, August 24, 1843. The great mound at these flats was opened as a place of public resort about four years ago. For this purpose a horizontal gallery to its centre was dug and bricked up, and provided with a door. The centre was walled round as a rotunda, of about twenty-five feet diameter, and a shaft sunk from the top to intersect it ; it was in these two excavations that the skeletons and accompanying relics and ornaments were found. All these articles arc arranged for exhibition in this rotunda, which is lighted up with candles. The lowermost skeleton is almost entire, and in a good state of preservation, and is put up by means of wires, on the walls. It has been overstretdied in the process so as to measure six feet ; it should be about five feet eight inches. It exhibits a noble frame of the human species, bearing a skull with craniological developments of a highly favorable charcter. The face bones are elongated, with a long chin and symmetrical jaw, in which a full and fine set of teeth, above and below, are present. The skeletons in the upper vault, where the inscription stone was found, are nearly all destroyed. It is a damp and gloomy repository, and exhibits in the roof and walls of the rotunda one of the most extraordinary sepulchral displays which the world affords. On casting the eye up to the ceiling, and the heads of the pillars supporting it, it is found to be encrusted, or rather fes- tooned, with a white, soft, flaky mass of matter, which had exuded from the mound above. This apparently animal exudation is as white as enow. It hangs in pendent masses and globular drops ; the surface is covered with large globules of clear water, which in the reflected light have all the brilliancy of diamonds. These drops of water trickle to the floor, and occasionally the exuded white matter falls. The wooden pillars are furnished with the appearance of capitals, by this substance. That it is the result of a soil highly charged with particles of matter, arising from the decay or incineration of human bodies, is the only theory by which we may account for the phenomenon. Curious and unique it certainly is, and with the faint light of a few candles it would not require much imagination to invest the entire rotunda with sylph- like forms of the sheeted dead. An old Cherokee chief, who visited this scene, recently, with his companions, on his way to the West, was so excited and indignant at the desecration of the tumulus, by this display of bones and relics *o the gaze of the white race, that he becanu? furious and unmanageable ; his friends and interpreters had to force him out, to prevent his assassinating the guide ; and soon after he drowned his .senses in iilrohol. That this spot was a very ancient jioint of seltknii-nt by the hunter H'if P^'h' I : I i 814 LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES race in th(.> Oliio valley, and that it was inhabited by the present red race of North American Indians, on the arrival of whites west of the Alleghanies, are both admitted facts ; nor would the historian and anti- quary ever have busied themselves farther in the matter had not the inscribed stone come to light, in the year 1839. I was informed, yes- terday, that another inscri])tion stone had been found in one of the smaller mounds on these flats, about five years ago, and have obtained data suIBcient as to its present location to put the Ethnological Society on its trace. If, indeed, these inscriptions shall lead us to admit that the continent was visited by Europeans prior to the era of Columbus, it is a question of very high antiquarian interest to determine who the visitors were, and what they have actually left on record in these antique tablets. I have only time to add a single additional fact. Among the articles found in this cluster of mounds, the greater part are commonplace, in our western mounds and town ruins. I have noticed but one which bears the character of that unique type of architecture found by Mr. Stephens and Mr. Catherwood in Central America and Yucatan. With the valuable monumental standards of comparison furnished by these gentlemen before me, it is impossible not to recognize, in an ornamental stone, found in one of the lesser mounds here, a specimen of similar workmanship. It is in the style of the heavy feather-sculptured orna- ments of Yucatan — the material being a wax yellow sand-stone, dark- ened by time. 1 have taken such notes and drawings of the objects above referred to, as will enable me, I trust, in due time, to give a con- nected account of them to our incipient society. IV. Massillon, Ohio, August 27th, 1843. Since my last letter I have traversed the State of Ohio, by .stage, to this place. In coming up the Virginia banks of the Ohio from Mounds- ville, I passed a monument, of simple construction, erected to the memory of a Captain Furman and twenty-one men, who were killed by the Indians, in 1777, at that spot. They had been out, from the fort at Wheelinc, on a scouting party, and were waylaid at a pass called the narrows. The Indians had dropped a pipe and some trinkets in the path, knowing that the white men would pick them up, and look at them, and while the laiter were grouped together in this act, they fired and killed every man. The Indians certainly fought hard for the pos- session of this valley, aiming, at all times, to make up by stratagem what they lacked in numbers. I doubt whether there is in the history of the OP THE WEiTERN COUNTRY. 315 spread of civilisation over the woiM a theatre so rife with partisan adventure, mtissacre and murder, as .he valley of the Ohio and iha country west of the Alleghany generally presented between the break- ing out of the American revolution, in '7*3, and the close of the Black Hawk war in 1832. The true era, in fact, begins with the French war, in 1744, and terminates with the Florida war, the present year. A work on this subject, drawn from authentic sources, and written with spirit and talent, would be read with avidity and possess a permanent interest. The face of the country, from the Ohio opposite Wheeling to the waters of the Tu.scarawas, the north fork of the Muskingum, is a series of high rolling ridges and knolls, up and down which the stage travels slowly. Yet this section is fertile and well cultivated in wheat and corn, particularly the latter, which looks well. This land cannot be purchased under forty or fifty dollars an acre. Much of it was originally bought for seventy-five cents per acre. It was over this high, wavy land, that the old Moravian missionary road to Gnadenhutten ran, and I pur- sued it to within six miles of the latter place. You will recollect this locality as the scene of the infamous murder, by Williamson and his party, of the non-resisting Christian Delawares under the ministry of Heckewelder and Ziesberger. On the Stillwater, a branch of the Tuscarawas, we first come to level lands. This stream was noted, in early days, for its beaver and other furs. The last beaver seen here was shot on its banks twelve years ago. It had three legs, one having probably been caught in a trap or been bitten off. It is known that not only the beaver, but the otter, wolf and fox, will bite off a foot, to escape the iron jaws of a trap. It has been said, but I know not on what good authority, that the hare will do the same. We first struck the Ohio canal at Dover. It is in every respect a well constructed work, with substantial locks, culverts and viaducts. It is fifty feet wide at the top, and is more than adequate for all present purposes. It pursues the valley of the Tuscarawas up to the summit, by which it is connected with the Cuyahuga, whose outlet is at Cleve- land. Towns and villages have sprung up along its banks, where before there was a wilderness. Nothing among them impressed me more than Ihe town of Zoar, which is exclusively settled by Germans. There lieems sonvething of the principles of association — one of the fallacies of the age — in its large and single town store, hotel, &c., but I do not know how far they may extend. Individual property is held. The evidences of thrift and skill, in cultivation and mechanical and mill work, are most sirikirg. Every dwelling here is surrounded with fruit and fruit trees. The botanical garden and hot-house are on a large scale, and exhibit a favorable specimen of the present state of horticulture. ■t ■ :■ IS 316 LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES One of the assistants very kindly plucked for me some fine fruit, and voluntarily offered it. Zoar is quite a place of resort as a ride for the neighiioring towns. I may remark, en passant, that there is a large proportion of German population throughout Ohio. They are orderly, thrifty and industrious, and fall readily into our political system and habits. Numbers of them are well educated in the German. They embrace Lutherans as well as Roman Catholics, the latter predomi- nating. Among the towns which have recently sprung up on the line of the canal, not the least is the one from which I date this letter. The name of the noU'd French divine (Massillon) was affixed to an uncultivated spot, by some Boston gentlemen, some twelve or fourteen years ago. It is now one of the most thriving, city-lookmg, business places in the interior of Ohio. In the style of its stores, mills and architecture, it reminds the visitor of that extraordinary growth and spirit which marked the early years of the building of Rochester. It numbers churches for Episcopalians, Baptists, Methodists and Presbyterians, and also Lu- therans and Romanists. About three hundred barrels of flour can be turned out per diem, by its mills. It is in the greatest wheat-growing county in Ohio (Stark), but is not the county-seat, which is at Canton V. Detroit, Sept. 15th, 1843. In passing from the interior of Ohio toward Lake Erie, the face of the country exhibits, in the increased size and number of its boulder stones, evidences of the approach of the traveller toward those localities of sienites and other crystalline rocks, from which these erratic blocks and water-worn masses appear to have been, in a remote age of our planet, removed. The soil in this section has a freer mixture of the broken down slates, of w hich portions are still in place on the shores of Lake Erie. The result is a clayey soil, less favorable to wheat and Indian corn. We came down the cultivated valley of the Cuyahoga, and reached the banks of the lake at Ihe fine town of Cleveland, which is elevated a hundred feet, or more, above it, and commands a very ex- tensive view of the lake, the harbor and its ever-busy shi])ping. A day was employed, by stage, in this section of my tour, and the next carried me, by steamboat, to this ancient French capital. Detroit has many interesting historical associations, and appears destined, when its railroad is finished, to be the chief thoroughfare for travellers to Chicago and the Mississippi valley- As my attention has, however, been more taken S^^r TV^'-J^'Wnr^ -r^rr- OF THE WESTERN COUNTRY. 317 up, on my way, with the past than the present and future condition of the West, the chief interest which the route has excited must necessarily arise from tlie same source. Michigan connects itseU' in its antiquarian features with that chara:« tf r of pseudo-civilisation, or modified barharianism, of which the works «nd mounds and circumvaUations at Grave Creek Fiats, at Marietta, at Circleville and other well known points, are evidences. That this improved condition of the hunter state had an ancient but partial con- nection with the early civilisation of Europe, appears now to be a fair inference, from the inscribed stone of Grave Creek, and other traces of European arts, discovered of late. It is also evident that the central American type of the civilisation, or rather advance to civilisation, of the red race, reached this length, and finally went down, with its gross idol- atry and horrid rites, and was merged in the better known and still ex- isting form of the hunter state which was found, respectively, by Cabot, Cartier, Verrezani, Hudson, and others, who first dropped anchor on our eoasts. There is strong evidence furnished by a survey of the western coun- try that the teocalli type of the Indian civilisation, so to call it, devel- oped itself from the banks of the Ohio, in Tennessee and Virginia, west and north-westwardly across the sources of the Wabash, the Musking- um and other streams, toward Lake Michigan and the borders of Wis- consin territory. The chief evidences of it, in Michigan and Indiana, consist of a remarkable series of curious garden beds, or accurately fur- rowed fields, the perfect outlines of which have been preserved by the grass of the oak openings and prairies, and even among the heaviest for- ests. These remains of an ancient cultivation have attracted much atten- tion fron observinr settlers on the Elkhart, the St. Joseph's, the Kala- mazoo and Grand river of Michigan I possess some drawings of these anomalous remains of by-gone industry iu the hunter race, taken in for- mer years, which are quite remarkable. It is worthy of remark, too, that no large tumuli, or teocalli, exist in this particular portion of the West, the ancient population of which may therefore be su))posed to have been borderers, or frontier bands, who resorted to the Ohio valley as their capital, or place of annual visitation. All the mounds scattered through Northern Ohio, Indiana and Michigan, are mere barrows, or re- positories of the dead, and would seem to have been erected posterior to the fall or decay of the gross idol worship and the offer of human sacri- fice. I have, within a day or two, received a singular implement or or- nament of stone, of a crescent shape, from Oakland, in this State, which connects the scattered and out-lying remains of the smaller mounds, and traces of ancient agricultural labor, with the antiquities of Groro Croek Flats !^t ' ;S i Ifi '• .' . '< rJi I r II 318 LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES VI. Detroii', Sept. 16th, 1843. The antiquities of Western America are to be judged of by isolat- ed and disjointed discoveries, which are often made at widely distant points and spread over a very extensive area. The labor of comparison and discrimination of the .several eras which the objects of these discov- eries establish, is increased by this diifusion and disconnection of the times and places oftheir occurrence, and is, more than all, perhaps, hin- dered and put back by the eventual carelessness of the discoverers, and the final loss or mutilation of the articles disclosed. To remedy this evil, every discovery made, however apparently unimportant, should in this era of the diurnal and periodical press be put on record, and the objects themselves be either carefully kept, or given to some public scientific in- stitution. An Indian chief called the Black Eagle, of river Au Sables (Michigan), discovered a curious antique pipe of Etruscan ware, a few years ago, at Thunder Bay. This pipe, which is now in my possession, 's as remark- able for its form as for the character of the earthenware irom which it is made, differing as it does so entirely from the coarse earthen pots and vessels, the remains of which are scattered so generally throughout North America. The form is semi-circular or horn-shaped, with a qua- drangular bowl, and having impressed in the ware ornamentsat each angle. I have never before, indeed, seen any pipes of Indian manufacture of baked clay, or earthenware, such articles being generally carved out of steatite, indurated clays, or other .soft mineral substances. It is a pecu- liarity^ of this pipe that it was smoked from the small end, which is rounded for the purpose of putting it between the lips, without the intervention of a stem. The discoverer told me that he had taken it from a very antique grave. A large hemlock tree, he said, had been blown down on the banks of the river, tearing up, by ils roots, a large mass of earth. At the bottom of the excavation thus made he discovered a grave, which contained a vase, out of which he took the pipe with some other articles. The vase, he said, was broken, so that he did not deem it worth bringing away. The other articles he described as bone's. Some time since I accompanied the chief Kewakonce, to get an an- cient clay pot, such as the Indians used when the Europeans arrived on the continent. He said that he had discovered two such pots, in an en- tire state, in a cave, or crevice, on one of the rocky islets extending north of Point Tessalon, which is the northern cape of the entrance of the Straits of St. Mary's into Lake Huron. From this locality he had removed one of them, and concealed it at a distant point. We travelled OP THE WESTERN COUNTRY. 319 in canoes. We landed on the northern shore of the large island of St. Joseph, which occupies the jaws of those expanded straits. He led me up an elevated ridge, covered with forest, and along a winding narrow path, conducting to some old Indian cornfields. All at once he stopped in this path. " We are now very near it," he said, and stood still, look- ing toward the spot where he had concealed it, beneath a decayed trunk. He did not, at last, appear to be willing to risk his luck in life — such is Indian superstition— by being the actual discoverer of this object of vene- ration to a white man, but allowed me tc make, or rather complete, the re-discovery. With the exception of being cracked, this vessel is entire. It corres- ponds, in material and character, with the fragments of pottery usually found. It is a coarse ware, tempered with quartz or feld-spar, and such as would admit a sudden fire to be built around it. It is some ten inches in diameter, tulip-shaped, with a bending lip, and without supports be- neath. It was evidently used as retorts in a sand bath, there being no contrivance for suspending it. I have forwarded this curious relic entire to the city for examination. I asked the chief who presented it to me, and who is a man of good sense, well acquainted with Indian traditions, how long it was since such vessels had been used by his ancestors. He replied, that he was the seventh generation, in a direct line, since the French had first arrrived in the lakes. I Ml' t'. ! vn Detroit, Sept. 16th, 1S43. There was found, in an island at the west extremity of Lake Huron, an ancient repository of human bones, which appeared to have been gath- ered from their first or ordinary place of sepulture, and placed in this rude mausoleum. The island is called Isle Ronde by the French, and is of small dimensions, although it has a rocky basis and affords sugar ma- ple and other trees of the hard wood species. This repository was first disclosed by th6 action of the lak^ agains^ a diluvial shore, in which the bones were buried. At the time of my visit, vertebrse, tibiae, portions of crania and other bones were scattered down the fallen bank, and served to denote the place of their interment, which was on the margin of the plain. Some persons supposed that the leg and thigh bones denoted an unusual length ; but by placing them hip by hip with the living speci> men, this opinion was not sustained. All these bones had been placed longitudinally. They were arranged in order, in a wide grave, or trench. Contrary to the usual practice of the pre- sent tribes of red men, the skeletons were laid north and south. 1 asked 1|: :i> i, i^^-^:'r:Ah Si?! 320 LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES several of the most agod Indian ch'ujfs in tliat vicinity for information re- specting these bones — by what tribe tliey had been deposited, and why they hud been hiid north and south, and not east and west, as they uni- formly bury. But, with the usual result as to early Indian traditions, they had no information to oH'er. Chusco, an old Ottawa prophet, since dead, remarked that they were probably of the time of the Indian bones found in the caves on the island of Michilimackinac. In a small plain on the same island, near the above repository, is a long abandoned Indian burial-ground, in which the interments are made in the ordinary way. This, I understood from the Indians, is of the era of the occupation of Old Mackinac, or Peekwutinong, as they continue to call it — a place which has been abandoned by both whites and Indians, sol- diers and missionaries, about seventy years. I caused excavations to be made in these graves, and found their statements to be generally verified by the character of the articles deposited with the skeletons; at least they were all of a date posterior to the discovery of this part of the coun- try by the French. There were found the oxydated remains of the brass mountings of a chiefs fusil, corroded fire steels and other steel imple- ments, Vermillion, wampum, and other cherished oi valued articles. I sent a perfect skull, taken from one of these graves, to Dr. Morton, the author of '* Crania," while he was preparing that work. No Indians have resided on this island within the memory of any white man or In- dian with whom I have conversed. An ajed chief whom I interrogated, called Saganosh, who has now been dead some five or six years, told mo that he was a small boy when the present settlement on the island of Michilimackinac was commenced, and the English first took post there, and began to remove their cattle, &c., from the old fort on the peninsula, and it was about that time that the Indian village of Minnisains, or Isle Ronde, was abandoned. It had before formed a link, as it were, in the traverse of this part of the lake (Huron) in canoes to old Mackinac. The Indians opposed the transfer of the post to the island of Michili- mackinac, and threatened the troops who were yet in the field. They had no cannon, but the commanding officer sent a vessel to Detroit for one. This vessel had a quick trip, down and up, and brought up a gun, which was fired the evening she came into the harbor. This pro- duced an impression. I have made some inquiries to fix the date of this transfer of posts, and think it was at or about the opening of the era of the American revolution, at which period the British garrison did not feel itself safe in a mere stockade of timber on the main shore. This stock- ade, dignified with the name of a fort, had not been burned on the taking of it, by surprise, and the massacre of the English troops by the Indians, during Pontiac's war. This massacre, it will be recollected, was in 1763 — 4welve years before the opening of the American war. OF THE WESTERN COUNTRY. VIII. 321 Detroit, Oct. 13lh, 1843. The so-called copper rock of Lake Superior was brought to this place, a tluy or two since, in a vessel from Sault Sle-Marie, having been trans- ported from its original locality, on the Ontonagon river, at no small labor and expense. It is upwards of twenty-three years since I first visited this remarkable specimen of native copper, in the forests of Lake Supe- rior. It has been somewhat diminished in size and weight, in the mean- time, by visitors and travellers in that remote quarter ; but retains, vcty well, its original character and general features. I have just returned from a re-examination of it in a store, in one of the main streets of this city, where it has been deposited by the present proprietor, who designs to exhibit it to the curious. Its greatest length is four feet six inches ; its greatest width about four feet ; its maximum thickness eighteen inches. These are rough measurements with the rule. It is almost entirely composed of malleable copper, and bears striking marks of the visits formerly paid to it, in the evidences of portions which have from time to time been cut off. There are no scales in the city large enough, or other means of ascertaining its precise weight, and of thus terminating the uncertainty arising from the several estimates here- tofore made. It has been generally estimated here, since its arrival, to weigh between six and seven thousand pounds, or about three and a half tons, and is by far the largest known and described specimen of native copper on the globe. Rumors of a larger piece in South America are apocryphal. The acquisition, to the curious and scientific world, of this extraordi- nary mass of native metal is at least one of the practical results of the copper-mining mania which carried so many adventurers northward, into the region of Lake Superior, the past summer (1843). The person who has secured this treasure (Mr. J. Eldred) Has been absent, on the busi- ness, since early in June. He succeeded in removing it from its diluvial bed on the banks of the river, by a car and sectional railroad of two links, formed of timber. The motive power was a tackle attached to trees, which was worked by men, from fourteen to twenty of whom were employed upon it. These rails were alternately moved forward, as the car passed from the hindmost. In this manner the rock was dragged four miles and a half, across a rough country, to a curve of the river below its falls, and below the junction of its forks, where it was received bj' a boat, and conveyed to the mouth of the river, on the lake shore. At this point it was put on board a schooner, and taken to the falls, or Sault Ste-Marie, and thence, having been transported across the portage, embarked for Detroit. The 21 ;!■:' m 322 LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES entire distance to this place is a little within one thousand milei ; tlire« hundred and twenty of which lie beyond St. Mary's. What is to be its future history and disposition remains to be seen. It will probably find its way to the museum of the National Institute in the new patent office at Washington. This would be appropriate, and it is stated that the authorities have asserted their ultimate claim to it, probably under the 3d article of the treaty of Fond du Lac, of the 5th of August, 1826. I have no books at hand to refer to the precise time, so far as known, when this noted mass of copper first became known to Europeans. Probably a hundred and eighty years have elapsed. Marquette, and his devoted companion, pa-'sed up the shores of Lake Superior about 1668, which was several years before the discovery of the Mississippi, by that eminent missionary, by the way of the Wisconsin. From the letters of D'Ablon at Sault Ste-Marie, it appears to have been known prior to the arrival of La Salle. These allusions will be sufficient to show that the rock has a historical notoriety. Apart from this, it is r. specimen which is, both mineralogically and geologically, well worthy of national pre- servation. It is clearly a boulder, and bears marks of attrition from the action of water, on some parts of its rocky surface as well as the metallic portions. A minute mineralogical examination and description of it are required. The adhering rock, of which there is less now than in 1820, is apparently serpentine, in some parts steatitic, whereas the copper ores of Keweena Point on that lake, are found exclusively in the amygdaloids and greenstones of the trap formation. A circular depression of opaque crystalline quartz, in the form of a semi-geode, exists in one face of it ; other parts of the mass disclose the same mineral. Probably 300 lbs. of the metal have been hacked off, or detached by steel chisels, since it has been known to the whites, most of this within late years. IX. Detroit, Oct. 16th, 1843. IN the rapid development of the resources and wealth of the West, there is no object connected with the navigation of the upper lakes of more prospective importance than the improvement of the delta, or flats of the St. Clair. It is here that the only practical impediment occurs to the passage of heavy shipping, between Bufialo and Chicago. This delta is formed by deposits at the point of discharge of the river St. Clair, into Lake St. Clair, and occurs at the estimated distance of about thir^- OF THE WESTERN COUNTRY. 323 miles } tl>re« ) be seen. It istitute in the iate, and it is to it, probably »th of August, far as known, ;o Europeans, [juette, and his or about 1668, i3sippi> by that n the letters of wn prior to the ) shovr that the ipecimen which )f national pre- from the action as ihe metallic pription of it are w than in 1820, } the copper ores the amygdaloids ession of opaque [J one face of it ; lably 300 lbs. of lisels, since it has 16th, 1843. tlth of the West, he upper lakes of [the delU, or flats ediment occurs to Chicago. This [he river St. Clair, le of about thirty- six miles above the city. ThH flats arc fan-shaped, and spread, I am inclined to think, upward of fifteen miles, on the line of their greatest expansion. There are three principal channels, besides sub-channels, which cany a depth of from four to six fathotrs to the very point of their exit into the lake, where there is a bar in each. This bar, as is shown by the chart of a survey made by otHcers Macomb and Warner, of the topogra* phical engineers, in 1842,18 very similar to the bars at the mouths of the upper lake rivers, and appears to be susceptible of removal, or improve* ment, by similar means. The north channel carries nine feet of water over this bar, the present season, and did the same in 1842, and is the one exclusively used by vessels and steamboats. To the latter this tor- tuous channel, which is above ten miles farther round than the middle channel, presents no impediment, besides the intricacies of the bar, but increased distance. It is otherwise, and ever must remain so, to vessels propelled by sails Such vessels, coming up with a fair wind, find the bend so acute and involved at Point aux Chcnea^ at the head of this channel, as to bring the wind directly ahead. They are, consequently, compelled to cast anchor, and await u change of wind to turn this point. A delay of eighi or ten days in the upward passage, is not uncommon at this place. Could the bar of the middle channel, which is direct, be improved, the saving in both time and distance above indicated would be made. This is an object of public importance, interesting to all the lake States and Territo- ries, and would constitute a subject of useful consideration for Con- gress. Every year is adding to the number and size of our lake vessels. The rate of increase which doubles our population in a given number of years must also increase the lake tonnage, and add new motives for the improvement of its navigation. Besides the St. Clair delta, I know of no other impediment in the channel itself, throughout the great line of straits between Buffalo and Chicago, which prudence and good seamanship, and well found vessels, may not ordinarily surmount. The rapids at Black Rock, once so formi- dable, have long been obviated by the canal dam. The straits of Detroit have been well surveyed, and afford a deep, navigable channel at all times. The rapids at the head of the river St. Clair, at Port Huron, have a sufficiency of water for vessels of the largest class, and only require a fair wind for their ascent. The straits of Michilimackinac are believed to be on the same water level as Lakes Huron and Michigan, and only present the phenomenon of a current setting east or west, in compliance with certain laws of the reaction of water driven by winds. Such are the slight impediments on this extraordinary line of inland lake navigation, which is carried on at an average altitude of something less than 600 feet above the tide lerel 324 LGTTP.RS ON TIIK ANTIQUITIES •f the Atlantic. Wlicn this line of commcrco rfquiros to be diverte' north, thi'uu;^h thu NlrulLs of St. ?>Iury\s intu Luke Superior, a period rnp« idiyap|iroacliinhich liave been often a.slosited, not ill isolated an>i single graves as tlie In.uie. at the outlet of Like Su- perior. The latter position was occupied, at the earliest dales, to which tradition reai'he?, by a branch of the Alijonijuins, lo whom the French g.ive the name, from thefillsof the river at thit locality, of S:tnltenx. They are better known, at this day under the name of Chippewas and Odiibwas. „ ^ 328 SETTLEMENT OP DETROIT, ETC. 329 Miainis of Sault Sle-Marie, the Illinois, and Green Bay, and of the Sioux of Mons. de la Forest, formerly commandant of Fort St. Louis on the Illinois, of Mons. de Lisle, our Lieutenant, and of Mons. de I3oau- vais, Lieutenant of Fort St. Joseph, on the Straits [Detroit] between Lakes Huron and Erie. We declare to all whom it may hereafter con- cern, that we have come upon the banks of the river St. Dcny's, situat ed three leagues from Lake Erie, in the Straits of the said Lakes Erie and Huron, on the south of said straits, and also at the entrance on the north side, for and in the name of the King, that we re-take possession of the said posts, established by Mons. La SuUe for facilitating the voy- ages he made or caused to be made in vessels from Niagara to Michili- mackinac, in the years •*•*** at each of which we have caused to be set up anew a stall", with the arms of the King, in order to make the said renewed taking possession, and ordered several cabins to be erected r the accommodation of the French and the Indians of the Shawnees ftp i '^'anis, who had long been the proprietors of the said territory, I' M. had some time before withdrawn from the same for their greater ac. bus, when Jacques Cartier prepared to share in the maratinie enterprise of the age, by visiting the coast. Cartier was a native of Normandy, and sailed from the port of St, Malo, in France, on the 20th April, 1534. It will be recollected that the conquest of Mexico had been completed 13 years previous. Cartier had two small vessels of 60 tons burden and 61 men each. The crews took an oath, before sailing, " to behave them- selves truly and faithfully in the service of the most christian king," Fran- cis I. After an unusually prosperous voyage of 20 days, he made cape "Buona Vista" in Newfoundland, which he states to be in north latitude, 48" 30'. Here meeting with ice, he made the haven of St. Catherine's, where he was detained ten days. This coast had now been known since the voyage of Cabot, in 1497, and had been frequently resorted to, by fishing vessels. Jean Denis, a native of Rouen, one of these fishermen, is said to have published the first chart of it, in 1506. Two years after wards, Thomas Aubert, brought the first natives from Newfoundland to Paris, and tliis is the era, 1508, commonly assigned as the discovery of Canada. The St. Lawrence remained, however, undiscovered, nor docs it appear that any thing was known, beyond a general and vague know- ledge of the coast, and its islands. The idea was yet entertained, indeed, it will be seen by subsequent facts, that America was an island, and that a passage to the Asiatic continent, existed in these latitudes. On the 2lst May, Cartier continued his voyage, sailing " north and by east" from cape Buona Vista, and reached the Isle of Birds, so called from the unusual abundance of sea fowl found there, of the young of which the men filled two boats, " so that" in the quaint language of the journal, " besides them which we did eat fresh, every ship did powder and sjilt five or six barrels." He also observed the godwit, and a larger and vicious bird, which they named margaulx. While at this island, they descried a polar bear, which, in their presence leapt into the sea, and 331 •i. I'M kM\ pn^- 332 CARTIER's voyages of DtSCOVRRY. thus escaped. On their subsequent passage to the main land, thcT ngaiu encountered, as they supposed, the same anim.il swimming towards l.ttid. 'J'hey manned their boats, and " by main strength overlook her, whose flesh was as good to be oaten, as the flt'sh of a calf two v^ara old." This bear is described to be, "as large as a cow, and as white as a swan." On the 27th he reached the harbour of " Carpimt" in the bay " Lcs Chustiiux," latitude 51^, where he was constrained to lay by, on account of the accumulation of ice, till the 9th of June. The narrator of the voy- age takes this occasion to describe certain paits of the coast and waters of Newfoundliiihl, the island of St. Catherine, Blanc Sablon, Brest, the Isle of Birds, and a numerous group of Islands called the Ishts. But these memoranda are not connected with any observations or discoveries of importance. Speaking of Bird and Brest Islands, he says, they aiTord "great store of god wits, and crows, with red beaks and red feet," who " make their nests in holes underground, even as conies." Near this lo- calily "there is great fishing." On the 10th June, he entered a port in the newly named island of Brest, to procure wood and water. Meantime, boats were dispatched to explore among the islands, which were found so numerous " that it was not possible they might be told, for they continued about 10 leagues beyond the said port." The explorers slept on an island. The next day they continued their discoveries along the coast, and having passed the islands, found a haven, which they named St. Anthony: one or two leagues be- yond, they found a small river named St. Servansport, and here set up a cross. About three leagues further, they discovered another river, of larger size, in which they found salmon, and bestowed upon it the name of St. Jacques. While in the latter position, they descried a ship from Rochelle, on a fishing voyage, and rowing out in their boats, directed it to a port near at hand, in what is called " Jaques Cartier's Sound," "which," adds the nar- rator, " I take to be one of the best, in all the world." The face of the country they examined, is, however, of the most sterile and forbiddingchar- Bcter, being little besides " stones and wild crags, and a place fit for wild beasts, for in all the North Island," he continues," I did not see a cart load of good earth, yet went I on shore, in many places, and in the Island of White Sand, (Blanc Sablon,) there is nothing else but moss and small thorns, scattered here and there, withered and dry. To be short, I be- lieve that this was the land that God allotted to Cain." Immediately following this, we have the first description of the natives. The men are described as being "of an inditferent good stature and big- ness, but wild and unruly. They wear their hair tied on the top, like a wreath of hay, and put a wooden pin within it, or any other such thing, in- •tead of a nail, and withthem, they bind certain birds feathers. They are cartibr's voyages of discovert. 333 clothed with beast skins, as well the men as women, but that the women go Bomewhut straiter and closer in their garments, than the men do, with their waists girded. They paint themselves with certain roan colours; their bouts are made of the bark of birch trees, with the which they fish, and take great store of seals. And as far as we could understand, since our coming thither, ihiit is not their •labitr " )Ut they come from the main land, out of hotter* countries to ca the sa als, and other necessi t < t their liv- ing." From this exploratory trip, the boats returned to their newly named har- bour of Brest, on the 13th. On the 14th, being the Sabbath, service was read, and the next day Cartier continued his voyage, steermg southerly, along the coast, which still wore a most barren and cheerless aspect. Much of this part of the narrative is taken up with distances and sound- ings, and the naming of capes and islands of very little interest at the present day. They saw a few huts 'ipon the clifls on the 18th, and named this part of the coast " Les Granges," but did not stop to form any acquaintance with their tenants. Cape Royal was reached and named the day prior, and is said to be the "greatest fishery of cods there possibly may be, for in less than an hour we took a hundred of them." On the 34th they discovered the island of St. John. They saw myriads of birds upon the irroup of islands named " Margaulx," five leagues westward of vvhicn they discovered a large, fertile, and well-timbered island, to which the name of " Brion" was given. The contrast presented by the soil and productions of this island, compared with the bleak and waste shores they had before encountered, excited their warm admiration ; and with the aid of this excitement, they here saw " wild corn," peas, goose- berries, strawberries, damask roses, and parsley, " with other sweet and pleasant herbs." They here also saw the walrus, bear, and wolf. Very little is to be gleaned from the subsequent parts of the voyage, until they reached the gulf of St. Lawrence. Mists, head winds, barren rocks, sindy shores, storms and sunshine, alternately make up the land- scape presented to view. Much caution was evinced in standing oflf and Oil an iron bound coast, and the boats were often employed in ex- ploring along the main land. While thus employed near a shallow stream, called the " River of Boats," they saw natives crossing the stream in thoif canoes, but the wind coming to blow on shore, they were com- pelled to retire to their vessels, without opening any communication with them. On the following day, while the boats were traversing the coast, they saw a native running along shore after them, who made signs as they supposed, directing them to return towards the cape they had left. Bui as soon as the boat turned he fleJ. They landed, however, and putting a •I underscore the word " hotter," to denote ll>e prevalent theory They were search- \ag for China or the East India. 334 cartier's voyages of discovery. Kiiifo and a woollen girdle on a stuff, as a good-will offering, returned to their vessels. The character of this part of the New'ounolnnd coast, impressed them as being greatly superior to the portions which ihey had previously seen, both in soil and temperature. In addition to the productions found at Urion's Island, they noticed cedars, pines, white elm, ash, willow, and what nre denominated " ewetrees." Among the feathered tribes they mention till! "thrush and stock-dove." By the latter term the passenger pigeon is doubtless meant. The " wild corn" hero again mentioned, is said to be " like unto rye," from which it may be inferred that it was the zizanin, although the circumstance of its being an equatic plant is not mentioned. In running along the coast Cartier appears to have been engrossed with the idea, so prevalent among the mariners of that era, of finding a pas- sage to India, nnd it was probably on this account that he made such a scrupulous examination of every inlet and bay, and the productions of the shores. Wherever the latter oflTered anything favourable, there was a strong disposition to admiration, and to make appearances correspond with the theory. It must be recollected that Hudson, seventy-five years later, in sailing up the North River, had similar notions. Hence the application of several improper terms to thr ogetabic and animal productions of the latitudes, and the constant eX] .lion of beholding trees bending with fruits and spices, " goodly trees" and "very sweet and pleasant herbs." That the barren and frigid shores of Labrador, and the northern parts of Newfoundland, should have been characterised as a region subject to the divine curse, is not calculated to excite so much surprise, as the disposition with every considerable change of soil and verdure, to convert it into a land of oriental fruitfulness. It docs not appear to have been sufficiently borne in mind, that the increased verdure and temperature, were, in a great measure, owing to the advancing state of the season. He came on this coast on the 10th of May, and it was now July. It is now very well known that the summers in high northern latitudes, although short, are at- tended with a high degree of heat. On the 3d of July Cartier entered the gulf to which the name of Bt Lawrence has since been applied, the centre of which he states to be in latitude 47° 30'. On the 4th he proceeded up the bay to a creek called St. Martin, near bay De Chaleur, where he was detained by stress of wea- ther eight days. While thus detained, one of the ship's boats was sent a-head to exj)lore. They went 7 or 8 leagues to a cape of the bay, where they descried two parties of Indians, " in about 40 or 50 canoes," crossing the channel. One of the parties landed and beckoned them to follow their example, "making a great noise" and showing "certain skins upon pieces of wood" — i. e. fresh stretched skins. Fearing their numbers, the seamen kept aloof The Indians prepared to follow them, in two canoes, in which movement they were joined by five canoes of the other party, cartier's voyages of discovery. 335 •' who were cominp from the sea side." They approached in a friendly manner, "dancing and muking many signs of joy, saying in their tongue Nape londumen assuath."* The seamen, however, suspected their in- tentions, and finding it impossible to elude them by flight, two shots were discharged among them, by which they were so terrified, that they fled precipitately ashore, " making a great noise." After pausing awhile, tho "wild men" however, re-embarked, and renewed the pyjrsuit, but after coming alongside, they were frightened back by the strokes of twr lances, which so disconcerted them that they fled in haste, and made no further attempt to follow. This appears to have been the first rencontre of the ship's crew with the natives. On the following day, an interview was brought on, by the approach of said "wild men" in nine canoes, which is thus described. " We being advertised of their coming, went to the point where they were with our boats; but so soon as they saw us they began to flee, muking signs that they came to traflic with us, showing us such skins as they clothed themselves withal, which are of small value. We likewise made signs unto them, that we wished them no evil, and in sign thereof, two of our men ventured to go on land to them, and carry them knives, with other iron wares, and a red hat to give unto their captain. Which, when ihey saw, they also came on land, and brought some of their skins, and so oegan to deal with us, seeming to be very glad to have our iron wares and other things, dancing, with many other ceremonies, as with their hands to cast sea water on their heads. They gave us whatever they had, not keeping any thing, so that they were constrained to go back again nuked, and made us signs, that the next day, they would come again and bring more skins with them." Observing a spacious bay extending beyond the cape, where this inter- course had been opened, and the wind proving adverse to the vessels quit- ting their harbour, Cartier despatched his boats to examine it, under an ex- pectation that it might afford the desired passage — for it is at all times to be observed that he was diligently seeking the long sought passage to the Indies, While engaged in this examination, his men discovered "the smokes and fires" of " wild men" (the term constantly used in the narrative to designate the natives.) These smokes were upon a small lake, communi- cating with the bay. An amiable interview took place, the natives presenting cooked seal, and the French making a suitable return " in hatchets, kniv js and beads." Afterthe.se preliminaries, which were conducted with a good deal of caution, by deputies from both sides, the body of the men ap- proached in their canoes, for the purpose of trafficking, leaving most of * In Mr. Gallatin's comparative vocnbuiary, " Napow" means man, in the Shesh- atapoosh or Labrador. It is tiiereforp fair to conclude tliat these were a party of Sheslu atapoosh Indians, whose language proves them to be of the kindred of the great Algou* quin <°umily. .;l 336 CARTIER's t^OYAGES OF DISCOVERY. their familirs behind. About 300 men women and children were esth mated to have been seen at this place. They evinced their friendship by singing and dancing, and \>y rubbing their hands upon the arms of their European visitors, then lifting them up towards the heavens. An opinion is expressed that these people, (who were in ilio position assigned to the Micmacs in 1600 in Mr. Gallatin's ethnological map,) might very easily be converted to Christianity. '• They go," says the narrator, " from place to place. They live only by fishing. They have an ordinary time to fish for their provisions. The country is hatkr than the country of Spain, and the fairest that can possibly bo found, altogether smooth and level."' To the productions before noticed, as existing on Brion's island &c., and which were likewise found here, he adds, " white and red roses, with many other flowers of very sweet and pleasant smell." " There be also," says the journalist, "many goodly meat!o\vs, full of grass, and lakes, wherein plenty of salmon be." The natives called a hatchet cocM, and a knife bacon* It was now near the middle of July, and the degree of heat ex- perienced on the excursion induced Cartier to name the inlet, Buie da Chaleur — a name it still retains. On the 12th of July Cartier left his moorings at St. Martin's creek, and proceeded up the gulf, but encountering bad weather he was forced into a bay, which appears to have been Gaspe, where one of the vessels lost her anchor. 'I'hey were forced to take shelter in a river of that bay, and there detained thirteen days. In the mean while they opened an inter- course with the natives, who were found in great numbers engaged in fishing for makerel. Forty canoes, and 200 mtn women and children were estimated to have been seen, duripnr their detention. Presents of "knives, combs, beads of glass, and other trifles of small value," were made to them, for which they expressed great thankfulness, lifting up their hands, and dancing and singing. These Gaspe Indians are represented as difTering, both in nature and .anguage, from those before mentioned They presented a picture of object poverty, were partially clothed in "old skins," and lived without the use of tents. They may, says the journalist, "very well and truly be called tr'dd, because there is no poorer people in the world, for I think all they had together, besides their boats and nets, was not worth five Bous." 'i'hey shaved their heads, except a tuft at the crown ; sheltered Ihemselves at night under their canoes on the bare ground, and ate their provisions very partially cooked. They were wholly without the use of salt, and "ate nothing that had any taste of salt." On Cartier's first land- ing among them, the men expressed their joy, as those at bay Chaleur had done, by singing and dancing. But they had caused all their women, * Koshee and Balikon. These are not the terms for a hatchet and a knife in Uw MiO> mac, nor in tlie old Algonquin, nor in the Wyandot. CARTIER^S VOYACEfl OF DISCOVERY. IT cxrept 2 or 3, to flee into the woods By giving n comb and a tin bell to ench of the wompn who hud ventured to remain, the avaficeof the men wa« exi-ited, and they quickly caused their women, to the number of about 20, to sully from tiie woods, to each of whom the same present was mad«. They caressed Cartier by touching and rubbing him with their hands; •ihey uleid sung and danced. Tlieir nets were made of a species of indi- genous hemp; they possessed also, a kind of "millet" called '' kapaigc," beans called " S.ihu," and nuts called '■Cihehya." If any thing was txhibited, which they did not know, or understand, they shook their heads s.iying "Nohda." It is added that they never come to the sea, ex- cept in fishing lime, which, we may remark, was probably the cause of 'heir having no lodges, or much other prop'rly about them. They would naturally wiah to disencumber their canoes as much as possible, in these Fummer excursions, that they might freight them back with dried fish. The language spoken by these Gaspe Indians is manifestly of the Iroquois type. "Cahehya," is, with a slight difference, the term for fruit, in the Oneida. On the 24th July, Cartier set np a crocv thirty feet high, inscii1)ed, " Vive U Roy de Francei'^ The natives who were present at this cere- mony, seem, on a little reflection, to have conceived the true intent of it, and their chief complained of it, in a " long oration," giving them to undcr- Rtand "that the country v.as his, and that we should not set up any cross, without his leave." Having quieted the old chief's fears, and made use of a little duplicity, to get him to come alongside, they seized two of the nti- tives for the purpose of taking them to France, and on the next day set sail, up the gulf. A fter making some further examinations of the gulf, and being foiled in an attempt to enter the mouth of a river, Cartier turned his thoughts on a return. He was alarmed by the furious tides setting out of the St. Lawrence ; the weather was becommg tempestuous, and under these cir- cumstances he assembled his captains and principal men, "to put the ques- tion as to the expediency of continuing the voyage." They advised him to this effeti. Tnat. considering that easterly winds began to prevail — " that there was nothing to be gotten" — that, the impetuosity of the tides was such " That they did but fall," and that storms and tempests began to reign — and moreover, that they must cither promptly return home, or else remain where they were till spring, it was expedient to return. With this counsel he complied. No time was lost in retracing their outward track, along tho Newfoundland coast. They reached the port of " VVhite Sands," on the 9th of August. On the I5th, being "the feast of the Assumption of Our Lady," after service, Cartier took' his departure from the coast. He en- countered a heavy storm, of three days continuance, "about the middle of the sea," and reached the port of St. Malo, on the 5th of September, after an Bbsen<'e of four months and sixteen days. This comprises the substance of the first voyage of discovery, of which 22 338 CARTIKU'h VOYAOKS ok DIACOVKIIV. WO hnve knowleilpo, ever mado within the waters of the St. Lnwrencti The NfwrounJIand and Nnva Scotia coasts, toircther with the shores of the Noith y\tlatitic generally, had hcen discovered by Cabot, 37 years befora The batiiis of Newloiindlaiid had been resorted to, as is known pretty freely for the purpose of fisliiiip, for 20 years of this period, and the natives had been at leabt, in one instance, taken to Knrope. JJut the existence of the St. Lawrence appears not to have been known, Carlier, is, therefore, the true discoverer of Catiada, although he was not its founder. The latter hon- our was reserved for another. In the two succeeding voyages made by Car- tier, of which it is proposed to make a synopsis, his title as a discoverer, is still more luUy cstublished. SECOND VOYAGE. A. D ISSf), May, 10th, Carticr left St. Malo, on his second voyage of discovery, " to the islands of Canada, Hochelaga, and Snguenay," with three ships — the "Hermina" of 100 to 120 tons — the "little Hermina" of GO tons, and the " Hermerillon" of 40 tons, commanded by separate masters, acting under his orders as " General." He was accompanied by several gentlemen and adventurers, among whom the narrator of the voyage mentions, "Master Claudius de Pont 13rland, son to the Lord of Montceuell, and cup-bearer to the Dauphin of France ; Charles of Pomc- rais, and John Powlet." He suffered a severe gale on the outward passage, in which the ships parted company. Caitier reached the const of Newfoundland on the 7th July, and was not rejoined by the other ves- sels till the '2Gth, on which day the missing vessels entered " the port of While Sands" in the bay dcs Chastcaux, the place previously desiynated for their general rendezvous. On the 27th he continued his voyage along the coast, keepmg in sight of land, and consequently running great risks, from the numerous shoals he encountered in seeking out anchorages. Many of the islands and headlands named in the previous voyage, were observed, nnd names were bestowed upon others, which had before escaped notice. Soundings and courses and distances, are detailed with the tedious proli.vity, and pro- bably, with the uncertainty of the era. Nothing of importance occurred until the 8th of August, when Cartier entered the gulf, where he had pre- viously encountered such storms, nnd which he now named St. Law- rence. From thence on the 12th, he pursued his voyage westward "about 25 leagues" to a cape named "Assumption," which appears (o have been part of the Nova Scotia coust. It is quite evident that the idea of a continuous continent was not entertained by Carlier at this period, although the Cabots had discovered and run down the coast nearly 40 years before (1497.) He constantly speaks of his discoveries as "islands" cautier's voyages of discovi:rt. 339 n\vrene« iliorcs of rs before. ;tty fii'fly lives hiid u-c of the ri'forc, ihe liiiu;r lion- ae by Cur- SCO vert' r, 18 1 voyage of ?r\ay, with J Herniina by separate Dmpanieil by rrator of thn the Lord of les of Pome- the outward led the coast he other vcs- ihc port of ly desiynated and the great object of anxiety sccma to have been, to find the long sought '^ piissigc' so ofteti mentioned in his journals. 'I'he two natives whom he hud seized on the previous voyage, now told him, that capo Assumption was a part of the ''southern coast," or main, — that there was an isflund north of the passage to *' Honj^niedo" where they had been taken the year before, and that "two days journey from the said cape, ami island, beiran the kiiifjdom of Sagucnuy." In conae(|uencc of this intormatioti, and a wish to revi.^it -'the land he had before espied," Caiticr turned his course towards the r.irth, and re- entering the (lulf of St. Lawrence, came to the entrance of the rrver, which is slated to be "about thirty leagues" across. Here, the tun na- tives told him, was the commenceincnt of " Saguenay," — that it was a- inliabiied country, and produced " red copper." They further informed him, that this was the motith of the " great river of Hochelaga, and ready way to Canada," — that it narrowed in the ascent towards Canada, the waters becoming fresh; that its sources were so remote that theyh.i never heard of any man who had visited them, and that boats would be required to complete tht; ascent. This information appears to have operated as a disappointment on Car- tier, and he determined to explore northward from the gulf, " because he would Ktiow" to use the quaint language of the narrator, " if between the lands towards the north any passage might be discovered." No sui h passage could however be foutid, and after devoting ten or twelve days to re-examinalioiis of points and islands before but imperfectly discovered, or to the discovery of otheis, he returned to the river St. Lawrence, which he began to ascend : and on the 1st Sept. he came to the entrance of the Sa smallest vessel and two boiU.s with fifty milliners, and the suj)eriiumerary gentlemen of his party. A voyage of ten days brought liiin to an expansion of the river, whieh he named thi; lake of Angolesme, but which is now known under tl>e name of St. IVter. Here the shallowness of tht; water, and rapidity of tlie current above, induced him to leave the " Hermerillon," and he proceeded with the two boats and twenty-eight armed men. The fertility of the shore, the beauty and luxuriance of the forest trees, mantled as they often were, with live vine loaded \.ith clusters of grapes, the variety of water fowl, and above all the friendly treatment they every where re- ceived from the Indians, excited unmi !','led admiration. One of the chiefs whom they encountered presented Cartier with two childien, his son and daughter, the latter of whom, being 7 or 8 years old, he accepted. On another occasion he was carried ashore by one of a party of hunters, as " lightly and easily as if he had been a child of five years old." Presents oi fish were made, at every point, where he came in contact with the natives, who seemed to vie with each other in acts of hospitality. These marks of welcome and respect continued to be manifested during the remainder of the journey to Hochelaga, where he arrived on the 2d of October. A muUitude of both srxes and all ages had collected on the shore to witness his approach, and v Icome his arrival. They expressed their joy hy dancing, "clustering about us, making much of us, bringing tlieir young children in their arms only to have our captain and his com- pany touch them." Cartier landed, and spent half an hour in receiving their caresses, and distributed tin beads to the women, and knives to some of the men, and then " retured to the boats to supper." The natives built large fires on the beach, and continued dancing, and merry making all night, frequently exclaiming A^^uiazf, which is said to signify "mirth and safety." Early the next morning Cartier having " very gorgeously attired him- self," and taking 20 mariners, with his officers and supernumeraiies, landed for the purpose of visiting the town, taking some of the natives for guides. After following a will beaten path, leading through an oak forest, for four or five miles, he was met by a chief, accompanied by a re- tinue, sent out to meet him, who by signs gave him to understand, that he was desired to rest at that spot, where a fire had been kindled, a piece of I'ivili'y, which it may be supposed, was something more than an empty compliment on an October morning. The chief here made "a long dis» course," which, of course, was not understood, but they inferred it was expressive of "mirth and friendship." In return Caitier gave him 2 hatchets, 2 knives and a cross^ which he made him kiss, and then put it around his neck. yi I 844 CARTIER'S VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. This done the procession advanced, without further interruption, to the " city of Iloch 'ligii," which is described as seated in the midst of cuhi- vated fields, at l.ie distance of n league fioni the niountiiin. It was securerf by three ramparts "one within another," about 2 rods in height, "cun ningly joined together after their fashion," whh u single gate "shut with* piles and stakes and bars." This entrance, and other parts of the walls, had plitforms above, provided with stones for defensive operations. Tho ascent to these platforms was by ladders. As the French approached, great numbers came out to meet them. They were conducted by the guides, to a large square enclosure in the centre of the town, " being from side to side a good stone's cast." They \»'ere first greeted by the female part of the population, who brought their children in their arms, and rushed eagerly to touch or rub the faces and arms of the strangers, or whatever parts of their bodies they could ap- proach. The men now caused the females to retire, and seated them- selves formally in circles upon the ground ; as if, says the narrator, "some comedy or show" was about to be rehearsed. Mats were then brought in by the women, and spread upon the ground, for the visitors to sit u;- on. Last came the "Lord and King' Agouhanna, a palsied old man, borne upon the sht)ulders of 9 or JO attendants, sitting on a "great stag skin." They placed him near the mais occupied by Cartier and his party. This simple potentate " was no whit better apparelled than any ol the rest, only excepted, that he had a certain thing made of the skins of hedgehogs, like a red wreath, and that was instead of bis crown." After a salutation, in which gesticulation awkwardly supplied the placo of language, the old chief exhibited his palsied limbs, for the purpose of being touched, by the supposed celestial visitants. Cartier, although he appeared to be a man of sense and decision, on other occasions, was not proof against the homage to his imputed divinity; but quite seiiously fell to rubbing the credulous chiefs legs and arms. For this act, the chief presented him his fretful "crown." The blind, lame, and unpotent, of lh,e town were now brought in, and laid before him, "some so old that the hair of their eyelids came down and covered their cheeks," all of whom he touched, manifesting his own seriousness by reading the Gospel of St. John, and " praying to God that it would please him to open tho hearts of this poor people, and to make them know his holy word, and that they might receive baptism and Christendom." He then read a por- tion of the catholic service, with a loud voice, during which the natives were " marvellously attentive, looking up to heaven and imitating us in gestures." Some presents of cutlery and trinkets were then di.-^tributed, trumpets sounded, and the party prepared to return to their boats. When about to leave their place, the women interposed, inviting them to partake of the victuals they had prepared — a compliment which was declmed, "because the meats had no savour at all of salt." They were followed CARTIER'S VOVAQES OP riSCOVERY. 345 out of the town by "divers men and women," who conducted the whole party to the top of the mountain, commanding a wide prospect of the phiin, the river and its islands, and the distant mountains. Trun^poited with a scene, which has continued to afford delight to the visitors of ail after times, Cartier bestowed the name of " Mount Royal" upon this eminence — a name which has descended, whh some modificatiotis, to the modern city. Having satisfied their curiosity, and obtained such information respecting the adjoining regions, as their imperfect knowledge of the Indian lan- guage would permit, thfy returned to their boats, accompanied by a pro- miscuous throng of the natives. Thus ended, on the 3rd Oct. 1535, the first formal meeting between the French and the Indians of the interior of Canada, or what now began to be denominated New France. As rr-spects those incidents in it, in which the Indians are represented as looking upon Cariier in the light of a divinity, clothed "'ilh power to heal the sick and restore sight to tiie blind, every one will yield the degree of faith, which his credulity permits. The whole proceeding bears so sti iking a resemblance to " Christ heal- ing the sick," that it is probable the narrator drew more largely upon his New Testament, than any certain knowledge of the faith and belief of a savage people whose traditions do not reach far, and whose language, granting the most, he but imperfectly understood. As respects the de- scription of a city with triple walls, those who know the manner in which our Indian villages are built, will be best enabled to judge how far the narrator supplied by fancy, what was wanting in fact. A " walled city" was somewhere expected to be found, and the writer found no belter place to locate it. Cartier no sooner reached his boats, than he hoisted sail and began his descent, much to the disappointment of the Indians. Favoured by the wind and tide, he rejoined his '• Pinnace" on the follow- ing day. Finding all well, he continued the descent, uhhont meeting Hjuch entitled to notice, and reached the " port of the Holy Cross," on the lUh of the month. During his absence the ships' crews had erected a breastwork before the vessels, and mounted several pieces of ships' can- non for their defence. Donnacona renewed his acquaintance on the fol- lowing day, attended by Taignoagny, Domaiga, and others, who were treated whh an appearance of fiiendship, which it con Id hardly be ex- pected Cartier could sincerely feol. He, in return visited their village of Stadacona, and friendly relations being thus restored, the French pre- pared for the approach of winter. Winter came in all its severity. From the miiUlie of Nov. to the middle of March, the vessels were enviioned with ice "two fathoms thick," and snow upwards of four del deep, re '..Jiing alove the sides of the vessels. Am! the wtatlu^r is reprrsi ntcd as being "e.Mrrmely rax-" and hittf r." In the midi^t of this severity, the crews were infected with '•a strange and cruel disease," the natural consequence of a too licentious ;. f :H jiii'l 'ill .il: !: i1 i:':M il '' i 346 CARTIER'S IrOYAGKS OF DISCOVERV. intercourse with the nntivps The viiulcnce of lliis disorder exceeded any thing ihiit ihoy had before witnessed, though it is muiiifeM, from the journal, that it was in its virulence only, that the disease itself presented any new features. A complete prostration of strength marked its cotn- inenceinent, the legs swelled, the "sinews shrunk as black as any coal." The infection became general, and e.xciled the greatest alarm. Nut more than 10 pei.'sons out of I iU were in a condition to afford assistance to the sick by the middle of February. Eight liud already died, and 5U were supposed to be past recovery. C.iiiier, to prevent his wealcncss being known, ns well as to stop further infection, interdicted all intercourse with the natives. He caused that "everyone .-hould devoutly prepare himself by prayer, ant more stance to the inJ 5U were a stop further i caused that (1 ill rernein- ibout a flight undei stand id that whoso- ssion, singing re not " above under hatches ties tliey were heir weakness rredible labour by Caitier, to )ught un remit- not till he had eaves of a cer- iiainder of his nk freely, and 3omaigaia, to a used women low to use it." to require no- apprehension of his savage the bay of the K! opportunity nners and cus- 1 the in forma- lecting the geo Tnncliing the faith of the Indians, it is said, they belitved no n-hit in God, l)iit id one whom they call Cndruiagni," to whom, they say, they are often indebted for a foreknowledge of the weather. And when he iff angry, his di^jdeasure is manifested hy casting dust in their eyes. They believi! that, after death, they go into the stars, descending by degrees to- wards the horizon, and are finally received into certain green fields, abounding in fruits and flowers. Thty are represented as possessing all property in common, and as being " indilferently well stored" with the useful " cominoilities" of the country — cKithinglhemselves imperfectly in skins, wearing hose and shoes of skins in winter, and going barefooted in summer. 'I'he men labour little, and are much addicted to smoking. The condition of the women i? one of drudgery and servitude. On them the labour of tilling the grounds, &.C., principally devolves. The young women live a dissolute life, until marriage, and married women, after the death of their husbands, are con deinned to a state of perpetual widowhood. Polygamy is tolerated. Both se.\cs are represented as very hardy, and capable of enduring the moit in- tense degree of cold. In this there is little to distinguish the nalive of 153G from that of the present day, if we substitute the blankrt for the mullalus* and except the remark respecting the condition of widows, the accuracv of which, as it was made upon slight acquaintance, may be rea sonably doubted. It may also be remarked, that the condition of young women, as described by Cartier, was more degraded and vitiated than it is now known to be among any of the North American tribes. The geographical information recorded respecting the St. Lawrence and its tributaries is generally vague and confuted. But may be referred to as containing the first notice published by the French of the Greul Liikes. Cailier was told by Donnacona and others that the river origi- nated so liir in the interior, that "there was never man heard of that found out the end thereof," that it passed through " two or three great lakes," and that tliere is " a sea of fresh water," alluding, probably, to Superior. At what time the ice broke up, is not distinctly told. It is stated that "that year the winter was very long," and a scarcity of food was felt among the Indians, so much so, that they put a high price upon their ven ison, iVc, and sometimes look it back to their camps, rather than pait with it "any thing cheap." Donnacona and many of his people withdrew themselves to their hunting grounds, under a pretence of being absent a fortnight, but were absent two months. Cartier attributed this long aksence to a design of raising the country, and attacking him in his fortified positions — a design which no cordiality of friendship on the part of D. would prevent his entertaining, and which the latter gave some colour to i'i: :p," it was proba h size. * Rooe ot bearer skins. Eight skins of two year old beaver are reqii Ted to maks •uch a robe. : I ■ ii:! 348 cartier's voyaoes op discovert. by noglcrting to visit Cartior on his rpturn with great nnnifacrs of nntives not U'loio seen, ami by cviding the attfnipts made to renew iiii inteiroiirse, by r<-i;7niii^ sioloiess us the caiisu of his rii'glect. Caitier felt liis own weuk:»;ss, tVom the death of so many of iiis crew and the sickness of otiiers, nnJ lias lecordod for his government on this occasion the proverb, that "he that takes heinl and shields himself from all men, may hope to escape from some." He determined to abandon one of his vessels, that he might completely man and re-fit the others, and appears to have been diligent in making early preparations to return. While thus engaged, Donnacona (April Hi,) appeared with a great number of men at Staducona, and John Powlef, " who being best believed of those people," he sent to reconnoitre Oiem in their principal villages, reported that he saw so many people, that ''one could not stir for another, and such men as they were never wont to see." 'I'aignoagny, whom he saw on this occasion, requested him to be- seech Cartier to tiko ofT " a lord of the country," called Agonna, who probably stood in the way of his own advancement. Cartier availed him- self of this request to bring on an interview with Taignoagny, and by flat- tering his hopes, finally succeeded in the execution of a project he appears to have previously enteitained. This was nothing less than the seizure of Donnacona, Taignoagny, Domaigaia, (his previous captives,) and "two more of the chiefest men," whom, with the children before received, ma!:- ing ten persons in all, he conveyed to France. This seizure was made on the 3d of May, being " Ilolyrood day," at a time when Cartier had completed his preparations for sailing. He took formal possession of the country, under the name of New France, by erecting a cross "thirty-five feet in height," bearing a Abield with the arms of France, and the following inscription : " Fraaciscus priinum dei gratia Francoriim Rex regnat," a sentence upon which this unjustifiable outrage formed a practical com- ment. Three days afterwards he sailed from the port of the Holy Cross, leaving crowds of the natives to bewail the loss of their chiefs. And M'hose kindness led them to send on board a supply of provisions, when they found they could not efTect their liberation. Finding the current of the St. Lawrence much swoln, he came to anchor at the isle of Filbcrds, near the entrance of the Sagnenay. where he was detained nine days. In the meantime many of the natives of Sagnenay visited the sliips, and find ing Donnacona a prisoner, they presented him three packs of beaver. Or the I7th May, he made an unsuccessful attempt to proceed, but was fo'^cd back and detained four daj-s longer, waiting "till the fierceness of the wa ters" were past. He entered and passed out of the gulph on the '21st, bui encountering adverse winds, did not take his final departure from the New- foundland coast till the 19th June. He then took advantage of a favorable CARTIER8 VOYAQEB OF DISCOVERT. 349 wind, nntl performed the homt»tvnrd voyngc in 17 days. lie entered the port of St, Miilo, July 0, l.')3G, navinj^ liwii alisoiit li'ss than 14 months, 8 of which had been passed in tbe St. Lavvreiice. THIRD rOTAOB. The reports and discoveries of Carticr were so well received by the King of France (Francis 1 ), that he determined to colonize the newly discovered country, and named John Francis de la Roche, Lord of Rob< erval, his *■* Lieutenant and Governor in the countries of Canada and Hochelaga." Cartier retained his former situation as " Captain General and leader of the ships,'' and to him was entrusted the iurther prosecution of discoveries. Five vessels were ordered to be prepared at St. Mulo, and measures appear to have been taken to carry out settlers, cattle, seeds, and agricultural implements. Much delay, however, seems to liavo attended the preparations, and before they were completed, Donnacona and his companions, who had been baptized, paid the debt of nature. A little girl, ten years old, was the only person surviving out of the whole number of captives. It is seldom that a perfect harmony has prevailed between the leaders of naval and land forces, in the execution of great enterprises. And Chough but little is said to guide the reader in forming a satisfactory opi- nion on the subject, the result in this instance proved that there wtis a settled dissatisfaction in the mind of Carticr respecting the general ar- rangements for the contemplated voyage. Whether he thought himself neglected in not being invested with the government of the country he had discovered, or felt unwilling that another should share in the honors of future discoveries, cannot now be determined. It should be recollected that the conquest of Mexico had then but recently been accomplished (1520), and it is not improbable that Cartier, who had taken some pains to exalt Donnacona into another Montezuma, thought himself entitled to receive from Francis, rewards and emoluments in some measure cor- responding to those which his great rival, Charles, had finally bestowed upon Coi'tcz. Whatever were the causes, four years elapsed before the ships were prepared, and M. La Roche, on visiting the vessels in the road of St. Malo, ready for sea, then informed Cartier that his artillery, munitions, and *' other necessary things" which he had prepared, were not yet arriv- ed from Champaigne and Normandy. Cartier, in the meantime, had received positive orders from the King to set sail. In this exigency, it was determined that Cartier should proceed, while the King's Lieut»*n> ant should remain " to prepare a ship or two at Honileur, whither ho tliought his things were come." This arrangement concluded, La Roche invested Cartier with full '','• I 300 cartier's voyaqgs of OrSCOVERY. powers to oct until liis arrival, and the latter set sail with five shipji, *• well furnished and victualled for two years," on the 2'3i\ of May, 1&40. Storn)!4 and contrary winds attended the paNsage. The ships ptrled com- pany, and were kept so long at sea, that they wctc coinpeiled to watei the cattle, &c., they look out for breed, with cider. At length, the ves< ■els rc-asseinhled in the harbor of Carpunt in Newfoundland, and after taking in wood and water, proceeded on the voyage, Cartier uot deem- ing it advisable to wait longer for the coining of La Koche. He reached the httle haven of Saincte Croix (where he wintered i.i the former voy- age), on the 23d of August. His arrival was welcomed by the natives, who crowded around his vessels, with Agona at their head, making inquiries after Donnacona and his companions in captivity. Cartier replied, that Donnacona was dead, and his bones rested in the ground •^that the other persons had become great lords, and wern married, and settled in France. No displeasure was evinced by the intelligence of Donnacona^s death. Agona, on the contrary, seemed to be well pleased with it, probably, as the journalist thinks, because it left him to rule in his stead. He took off his head-dress and bracelets, both being of yellow leather edged with wampum, and presented them to Cartier. The lat- ter made a suitable return to him and his attendants in small presents, intimating that he had brought many new things, which were intended for them. He returned the chieftain^s simple " crown." They then ate, drank, and departed. Having thus formally renewed intercourse with the natives, Cartier sent his boats to explore a more suitable harbor and place of landing. They reported in favor of a small river, about four leagues above, where the vessels were accordingly moored, and their cargoes discharged. Of the spot thus selected for a fort and harbor, as it was destined afterwards to become celebrated in the history of Canada, it may be proper to give a more detailed notice of Cartier's original description. The river is stated to be fifty paces broad, having three fathoms water at full tide, and but a foot at the ebb, having its entrance towards the south, and its course verj' serpentine. The beauty and fertility of the lands borderiiig it, the vigorous growth of trees, and the rapidity of vegetation, are highly and (I believe) very justly extolled. Near it, there is said to be "a high and .steep cliff," which it was necessary to ascend by "a way in manner of a pair of stairs," and below it, and between it and the river, an inter- val sufficiently extensive to accommodate a fort. A work of defence ■was also built upon the cliff, for the purpose of keeping the " nether fort and the ships, and all things that might pass, as well by the great, as by this small river." Upon the cliff a spring of pure water was discov- ered near the fort, " adjoining whereunto," says the narrator, *' we found good store of stones, which we esteemed to the diamonds" (limpid quartz). At the f jot of the cliff, faciog the St. Lawrence, they found cartikr's voy/.oes of discovery. 361 I five shipy, 1 May.lMO. pnrlfd com- lleil U) wutei glh, the v»'s« id, and after •r not decm- H« reached ! furnier voy- y the natives, >ead, making ily. Cartier n the ground I married, and nteliigence of p w ell pleased II to rule in his ling of yellow ier. The lat- mall presents, were inunded ' They then ativps, Cartier Lce of landing, above, where scharged. Of [led afterwards proper to give The river is r at full tide, south, and its ands bordering ion, are highly d tube "a high way in manner river, an intcr- ork of defence g the " nelher by the great, as ter was discov- tor, •' we found louds" (limpid ace, they found iron, and at the water^s edge " certain leaves of fine gold (mica) as thick OS uinan's nail." I'he ground was su favorable for tillage, that twenty men labored at an acre and a half in one day. Cabbage, turnip, and lettuce need, sprung up tho eighth day. A luxurious meadow was found along the river, and the w oods were clustered with a species of the native grape. Sucti were the natural appearance and advantages of a spot which was destined to be the future site of the city and fortress of Quebec,* " 'Ut to which he gave the name of ' Charlesbourg Royal.' " Cartier lost no time in despatching two of his vessels to France, under command of .Mace Jollobert and Stephen Noel, his brother-in-law and nephew, with letters to the king, containing an account of his voyage and proceedings, accompanied with specimens of the mineral treasures he supposed himself to have discovered ; and taking care to add '' how Muns. Roberval had not yet come, and that he feared that by occasion of contrary winds and tempest.<«, he was driven back again into Fiance." These vessels left the newly discovered town and fort of" Charlesbourg Itoyal" on the 2d of September. And they were no sooner despatched, than Cartier determined to explore the " Saults" or rapids ol the St. Lawrence, which had been described to him, and partly pointed out, dur« ing his ascent to the mountain of Montreal. Leaving the fort under the command of the Viscount Beaupre, he embarked in two boats on the 7th of September, accompanied by Martino de Painpont and other " gentle* men," with a suitable complement of mariners. The only incident re- corded of the passage up, is his visit to " the Lord of IJochclay" — a chief who had presented him a little girl, on his former visit, and evinced a friendship during his stay in the river, which he was now anxious to show that he preserved the recollection of. He presented the chief a cloak " of Paris red," garnished with buttons and bells, with two basins of" Laton" (pewter), and some knives and hatchets. He also left with this chief two boys to acquire the Indian lanj.;;uage. Continuing the a.scent, he reached the lower "Sault" on the 11th of the month, and, on trial, found it impossible to ascend it with the force of oars. He determined to proceed by land, and found a well-beaten path leading in the desired course. This path .soon conducted him to an Indian vdlage, where he was well received, and furnished with guides to visit the second " Sault." Here he was informed that there was another Sault at some distance, and that the river was not navi|:^ablc — a piece of information that tneant either that it was not navigable by the craft Cartier had entered the river with, or was intended to re[)ress his furlluT advance into the country. The day being far spent, he returned to his boats, where four hundred natives awaited his arrival. He ap- • Qiieiy — Is not thewonl Qiiphpraileiivitivcfroml'ie Algonquin phrase £'t6tc— a term itllerud in passing by a Jangeroua ami rocky co.tst ? 3(^2 CARTIEnS VOYA0E8 Of D.8C0VERY. pcued their curioiiity, l)y interchanging civiliticH, and distributing smR fsentii, ami inadu ull it|)V(Hl tu return to Cliarlt-Hbuurg Royal, where h« learned that the natives, ularuied by the furmiduljle deiVnceii going oD| had intermitted tiieir cutlomary vikits, and evinced signs of hostility I'his inference was confirmed by his own observations on the downward passage, and he determined to use the utmost diligence and precautioa to sustain hims'^lf in his new position. 1'he rest of this voyage is wanting. Hackluyt ha^, however, pre« served two letters of Jacques No«>l, a relative of Cartier, written at St. Malo in 1587, with the observations of latitude, courses, and distances, made by *'Juhn Alphonso of Xanctoigne," who carried out La Roche, Lord of Roberval, to Canada, in ir)42,and a frngm<*nt of Roberval's nar* rative, which indicated the sequel of Cartier'n third and last voyage. From the latter, it appears that Kobervoi entered the harbor of Bell* Isle in Newfoundland, on the 8lh of June, 1542, on his way to Canada; and while there, Cartier unexpectedly entered the same harbor, on hif return to France. He reported that he was unable '* with his amall company" to maintain a fcoting in the country, owing to the incessant hostility of the natives, anU had resolved to return to France. He pre- •ented the limpid quartz, and gold yellow mica, which he had carefully cherished, under a belief that he had discovered in these resplendent minerals, the repositories of gold and diamonds. An experiment was made the next day, upon what is denominated " gold ore," by whicli term the journalist does not probably refer to the " mica," considered, in an age in which mineralogy had not assumed the rank of a science, as " leaves of gold," but to pieces of yellow pyrites of iron, which it is men- tioned in the description of the environs of '' Charlesbourg Royal" Cartier had discovered in the slate rock. And the ore was pronounced " good" — a proof either of gross deception, or gross ignorance in the experi- menter. Cartier spoke highly of the advantages the country presented for settlement, in point of fertility. He had, however, determined \» leave it. He disobeyed RobcrvaPs order to return, and '* both he and his company" secretly left the harbor, and made the best of their way t* France, being ** moved," as the journalist adds, "with ambition, be- cause they would have all the glory of the discovery of these parts ts themselves." Jaauary 21st, lfi29. THE INFL.UBNOB OF ARX)I::NT S1MRIT9. 8ft3 THE INFI.UKNCi: ol' AliDKNT SI'IIMTS (^N TIIK CONDI- TlON 1)1-' THK NORTH AMKinCA.N INDIANS. «N AOOKi)t» nicAD nn-oiiF: tug cmii'pewa tcmini'v TKMpr.aANCB booibty, at SAUt/r STK-MAUIK, MAY 8th, 1833, TifK cin-cls of iiitoinperunc; on the eliaractor ot'iialinns ami iiulividu- als liiivi; bi'fii ol'lea iU'|>ifU'lit.s tliat brcullid and words tiiut burn" wero oncf sujipost'd to lie conliiu-d, exclusively, to i;ivi! niflody to tlio lyre, und lilf to tlu' ciuivuss. Hut the conct'[itioMS of modern benevolence have disiifllcd the illusion, and tiiujjht us tluit j^eniiis iuis no higher ob- jects than the promotion of the (greatest amount of ^ood to man — tiiat these objects come home to tlu- " busiiu'ss and bosoms" of men in their every day avocations — tliat they lie level to every capacity, and never assume so exalted a character, as when they are directed to increase tho sum of domestic hajjpiness and lireside enjoyment — " To mend the morals and improve the heart." It is this consideration that gives to the temperance effort in our day, a refined and expansive character — " Above all Greek, above all Roman fame"— which has enlisted in its cause sound heads and jjlowing hearts, in all parts of our country — which is daily augmentln;^ the sjdiere of its indu- euce, and which has already carried its precepts and examples from the little sea-board village,* where it originated, to the foot of Lake Superior. And I have now the pleasure of seeing before me a society, assembled on their first public meeting, who have "banded together," not with such mistaken zeal as dictated the killing of Paul, or assassinating Ca-sar, but for giving their aid in staying the tide of intemperance which has been rolling westward for more than three centuries, sweeping away thou- sands of while and red men in its course — which has grown with the growth of the nation, and strengthened with its strength, and which llireaten;j with an overwhelming moral desolation all who do not adopt the rigid maxim — " Touch not, taste not, handle not." The J)ritish critic of the last century little thought, while moralizing upon some of the weaknesses of individual genius, that he was uttering maxims which would eneoumge the exertions of \'t)!unlury associations of men to i)ut a stop to intemperance. It was as true then as now, that ' in the bottle, discontent seeks for comfort, cowardice for courage, and bashfulness for confidence." It was as true then, as now, that the " neg- * Andover. 23 354 THE INFLUENCE OF ARDENT SPIRITS ligcnce and irregularity" which are the fruits of this habit, " if long con- tinued, \vill render knowledge useless, wit ridiculous, and genius con- temptible." " Who," he exclaims, " that ever asked succors from j3acchus, was able to preserve himself from being enslaved by his aux- iliary ?"• And is there a species of servitude more pernicious in its in- fluence, more degrading in its character, more destructive of all physical and intellectual power, than the slavery of inebriation 1 The rage of the conflagration — the devastation of the flood — the fury of the tempest, are emblematic of the moral fury of the mind under the influence of alcohol. It is equally ungovernable in its power, and destructive in its effects. But its devastations are more to be deplored, because they are the devasta'ions of human faculties — of intellectual power — of animal er rgy — of moral dignity — of social happiness — of temporal health — of eternal felicity. Intemperance is emphatically the parent of disease, mental and phy- sical. Its direct eflTects are to blunt the faculty of correct thinking, and to paralyze the power of vigorous action. Nothing more effectually takes away from the human mind, its ordinary practical powers of dis- crimination and decision, without which man is like a leaf upon the tern- peat, or the chaff" before the wind. Dr. Darwin has aptly compared the effects of spirituous liquors upon the lungs to the ancient fable of Pro- metheus stealing fire from heaven, who was punished for the theft by a vulture gnawing on the liver.f A striking allegory : but one which is not inaptly applied to characterize the painful and acute diseases which are visited upon the inebriate. Dr. Rush was an early advocate of the cause. He likened the effects of the varic is degrees of alcohol, in spir- ituous drinks, to the artificial mensuration of heat by the thermometer, and took a decided stand in pointing out its poisonous efl^ects upon the system, in tl c generation of a numerous class of diseases, acute and chronic. If unhealthy food had been the cause of such disorders, the article would be rigidly shunned. No man would choose to eat twice of the cicuta ; to use bread having a portion of lime in it ; or to drink frequejjtly of a preparation of sugar of lead. Even the intemperate would fear to drink of alcohol, in its state of chemical purity, for its effects would cer- tainly be to arrest the functions of life. Yet he will drink of this pow- erful drug, if diluted with acids, saccharine and coloring matter, water and various impurities, under the disguised names of wine, brandy, rum, malt liquors, whisky, cordials, and mixed potations, which all tend to pamper the natural depravity of the human heart, and poison its powers of healthful action. Alcohol is one of the preparations which were brought to light iu the • Dr. Johnson. t Zoonotnis^ ON THE INDIAN RACE. 355 " long con- enius con- cors from ly his aux- is in its in- ill physical rhe rage of le tempest, nflucnce of ictive in its se they are —of animal health — of al and phy- linking, and 3 offectually wers of dis- pon the tem- ompared the able of Pro- thc theft by anc which is leases which ocate of the jhol, in spir- lermometer, ;ts upon the acute and the article twice of the Ilk frequently ould fear to Is would cer- of this pow- natter, water brandy, rum, all tend to m its powers light in the age of the Alchemy ists — when the human mind had run mad in a philo- Bophic research after two substances which were not found in nature — the philosopher's stone, and the universal panacea. One, it was believed, woiS to transmute all substances it touched into gold, and the other, to cure all diseases. The two great desires of the world — wealth and long life, were thus to be secured in a way which Moses and the Prophets had never declared. A degree of patient ascetic research was devoted to the investigation of natural phenomena, which the world had not before wit- nessed ; and modern science is indebted to the mistaken labors of this race of chemical monks, for many valuable discoveries, which were, for the most part, stumbled on. So far as relates to the discovery of the alcoholic principle of grains, a singular reversal of their high anticipa- tions has ensued. They sought for a substance to enrich mankind, but found a substance to impoverish them : they sought a power to cure all diseases, but they found one to cause them. Alcohol is thus invested with great talismanic power : and this power is not to create, but to destroy — not to elevate, but to prostrate — not to impart life, but death. How extensive its uses are, as a re-agent and solvent, in medicine and the arts — or if its place could be supplied, in any instances, by other sub- stances — are questions to be ans*vered by physicians and chemists. But admitting, what is probable to my own mind, that its properties and uses in pharmacy and the arts are indispensable in several operations, in the present state of our knowledge — does this furnish a just plea for its ordi- nary use, as a beverage, in a state of health 1 No more than it would, that because the lanct-t and the probe are useful in a state of disease, they should be continued in a state of health. And do not every class cf men who continue the use of ardent spirits, waste tlieir blood by a diur- niil exhaustion of its strength and healthy properties, more injurious than a daily depletion ; and probe their flesh with a fluid too subtle for the physician to extract } The transition from temperate to intemperate drinking, is very easy. And those who advocate the moderate use of distilled spirits are indeed the rent advocates of intemperance. No man ever existed, perhaps, who thought himself in danger of being enslaved by a practice, which he, at first, indulged in moderation. A habit of relying upon it is imperceptibly formed. Nature is soon led to expect the adventitious aid, as a hale man, accustomed to wear a staff, may imagine he cannot do without it, until he has thrown it aside. If it communicates a partial energy, it is the et.ergy of a convulsion. Its joy is a phrenzy. Its hope is a phan- tom. And all its exhibitions of changing passion, so many melancholy proofs of " the reasonable soul run mad." A.ngelic beings are probably exalted above all human weaknesses. — ;i ■■<:! 11 iiii' (!ir m 35G THIi INFLUENCE OF -IRDKNT SMMITS m. But it' there be anything in their survey ul oiu arlions which causes them to weep, it is the sight of a ihuiiken lather in tlie domestic circle. Instructed reason, and sound piety, have united their voices in decry- ing the evils of intemperance. Physicians have described its efiects in deranging the iibsorbent vessels of the stomach, and changing the heal- thy organization of the system. Moralists have portrayed its fatal influ- ence on the intellectual faculties. Divines have pointed o it its destruc- tive powers on the soul. Poetry, philosophy and science, have mourned the numbers who have been cut down by it. Common sense has raised uj) its voice against it. It is indeed — " a monster of so frightful mien, That to be haled, needs but to be seen.'' Like the genie of Arabic fable, it has risen up, where it was least expected, and stalked througli the inost secret and the most public apartments. And wherever it has appeared, it has prostrated the human mind. It has silenced the voice of elocpience in the halls of justice and legislation. It has absorbed the brain of the scientific lecturer. It has caused the sword to drop from the hand of the military leader. It has stupefied the author in his study, and the pastor in his desk. It has made the wife a widow in her youth, and caused the innocent child to weep upon a father's grave. We dare not look beyond it. Hope, who has attended the victim of intemperance through all the changes of his downward fortune, and not fonsaken him in any other exigency, has forsaken here. Earth had its vanities to selaee liim, but eternity has none. " Wounds of the heart — care, ilisappointment, loss, Love, joy, and frieiidshi|)'s fame, and fortune's cross, The wound that mars the llesh — the instant puin That racks the palsied limb, or fover'd brain, All— all the woes that life can fed or miss. All have their hopes, cures, palliatives, but this—' Tliis onhi — mortal ranker of tlie mind, Grim Uolial's last attempt on human kind.'' If such, then, are the elfects of ardent .•spirits upon the condition of civi lized man, wbt) has the precepts of instructed reason to enlighten him, and the consolatio-is of Christianity to support him, what must bo thiA influence of intemperate habits upon the afjorlginal tribes .' I proposn to ofTi'r a few considerations upon this subject. And in s ) doing I dis- claim all intention of imputing to one nation of the European stock, more than the olhc; , t!K> luUioniil crime of iiuviiig introduced ardent spirits among tlu; AnuMJfaii Iiulinns. Spaniards, Portuguese, Swedes, Dutch, Ilaliaiis, liiis.sians, (Jeiiiian.<, l''rench ami JMiglish, all eom(> in lor a share of the o!)lo|ny. TlH'y cacli broughl ardent spiiits to the New World— a proof, it may be infi'rred, of their general use, as a drink in Europe, at the era of lh(> discovery. Whatever other articles the first adventurers took to operate upon the hopes and fears of the new found people, distilled ON THE INDIAN IIACE. 357 or formenlod liquor appears to hiive been, in no instance, overlooked or for- gotlen. It would be easy to sliow the use nuide ol' tliem in the West In- dies, and in the southern part of our hemisphere. But our object is cou- fiiied to the colonies planted in the ISorth. And in this portion of tlie eo:itinent the l^nglish and French have ben the predominating powers. It had been well, ii" they had predominated in everylliin;^ else — if they had only been rivals lor courage, w isdom and dominion, ii" they had only fought to ac(iuire civil i)ower — conijuered to spread Christianity — negotiated to piTpetuate peace. But we have loo many facts on record to show, that they were also rivals in spreading the reign of intempe- rance amongthe Iniiians ; in gleaning, with avaricious hand, the furs from their lolge:; ; in stimulating them to light in their battles, and in leaving tliem to their own fate, when tlie battles were ended. Xor do we, as Americans, aileet to have suddenly succeeded to a belter Glate (if feelings resj)ccting tiie natives than our I'^ngliah ancestry pos- sessed. They were men of sterling enteri;rise ; of undaunted resolution ; of l;!;h sentiments of religious and political liberty. And we owe to them and to the peculiar circumstances in which Providence placed us, all that we are, as a free and a prosperous people. But while they bequeathed to us fliese ;:<'ntimenfs as ihe preparatives of our own national destiny, ihey also bequeathed tons their peculiar opinions respecting the Indian tribes. And these opinions have been cherished with obstinacy, even down to our own tiuios. The noble sentiments of benevolence of the 19th century Iiad not da'Aii'-d, when we assumed our station in the iii',;.ily of nations. If they were felt by gifted individuals, they were not f(!i! ;■ the body of the nation. Other duties — thi; imijerious duties fifsiT-exi-i. nee. nitional poveily, wasted resources, a doubtful public credit, a fe. ,de [lopulalion, harassing frontier wars, pressed heavily upon us. Bo* we have seen all these caiis;'s of nritional depression passing away, in less than ' alf a century. \Vith them, it may be hoped, have pa-i'U away, "verv obsta- eli' to the exercise of the most enlarg(>d charily, jnd enlightened pliilan thropy, respecting the native tribes. Nationality is sometimes as well characterized by .small as by great thie.gs— by nam^s, as by customs. And this may be oi)served in i'.ia treatnvn', of the Indians, so far as respects the subject of ardent spir- its. Under the French government they w^ere liberally supplied v. ith brandy. T'^'nderthe English, with Jamaica rum. Under the American, , with whisky. Tiiese constitute the fire, tlie gall, and the |)oison ages of In- (li;in history. Under this triple curse thej' have mainiaiu'd an e.xistc neo in the fiee of a white population. }?iit it has been an (xislmre merely. Other nations are said to have had a goldiii age. But there has been no d to it, it v,';is wlvn I'li'ir camos were cri)wned with (eiiq)oral abundance — when the races of anim^ds, jiiip'd on-I unfur- I i 1 nil I- i II li^!^ 358 THE INFLUENCE OF ARDENT SPIRITS 'I I' red., placed food and clothing within the reach of all — and when they knew no intoxicating drink. To counterbalance these advantages, they were, however, subject to many evils. They were then, as they are oow, indolent, improvident, revengeful, warlike. Bravery, manual strength, and eloquence, were the cardinal virtues. And their own feuds kept them in a state of perpetual insecurity and alarm. The increased value given to furs, by the arrival of Europeans, created a new era in their history, and accelerated their downfall. It gave an increased energy and new object to the chase. To reward their activity in this employ- ment, ardent spirits became the bounty, rather tlmn the price. A two- fold injury ensued. The animals upon whose llesh they had subsisted Decame .scarce, and their own constitutions were undermined with the subtle stimulant. Historical writers do not always agree : but they coincide in their tes- timony respecting the absence of any intoxicating drink among the north- ern Indians, at the time of the discovery. It is well attested that the Azteeks, and other jVIexican and Southern tribes, had their pulque, and other intoxicating drinks, which they possessed the art of making from various native grains and fruits. But the art itself was confined, with the plants employed, to those latitudes. And there is no historical evi- dence to prove that it was ever known or practised by the tribes situated north and east of the Gulf of IMexico. Dr. Robertson, an able and faith- ful describer of Indian manners, fully concurs with the Jesuit authors, in saving that no such beverage was known in the north, until Europeans found it for their pecuniary interest to supply it. After which, intoxica- tion became as common among the northern as the southern tribes.* Three hundred and forty years ago tiicre was not a white man in America. Columbus discovered the West India Islands; but Cabot and Verrizani were the discoverers of North America. Cartier and Hudson followed in the track. The first interview of Hudson with the Moheiian tribes, took place at the mouth of the river wiiich now bears hi* natne. It is remarkable as the scene of the first Indian intoxication amon then, and it is impossible now: and the missionary who entered the forest, with the Bible and crucifix in one hand, and the bottle in the other, might say, with the Roman soliloiiuist, who deliberated on self-murder, "My bane and antic' 'e are both before kw : While this inrorRi.s iiie I shall novn (lie. This in a moment brings me to my cml." National rivalry, between the ICnglisli and French governments, gave a character of extreme bitterness to the feelings of the Indians, and served to promote the passion for strong drink. It added to the horrors of war, and accumulated the miseries of peace. It was always a struggle be- tween these nations which should wield the; Indian power ; and, so far as religion went, it was a struggle betwei-n the Catholic and Protestant tenets. It was a power which both hud, in a measure, the means of putting into motion : but neither had i]\o coinphte means of controlling it, if we concede to them the jtcrfcct will. It would have mitigated the evil, i*'this struggle fur mastering the Indian mind had terminated with a sta'-j of war, but it was kept up during the feverish intermissions of peace. I'ulilical influence was the ever-present weight in each side of the scale. Religion threw in her aid ; but it was trade, the possession of the fur trade, that .'■ ve tl .' preponderating weight. And there is noth- ing in th(! history ^ji' this lualry, from ihi; arrival of Ruberval to the death of Monlcalr.,, that had so pern^ra;' ntly pernicious an influence as tiie .sanction whicli 'liis trade gave to the use of ardent si)irils. We can but glance at this subject ; but it is a glanc(> at the track of a tornado Destruction lies in its course. The history of the fur trade is closely intiMwoveii with ihe history of intemperance among llie Indians. We know not how to efleet the separation. Look at it in what era you will, the barter in ardent spirits constitutes a prominent feature. From Jamestown to Plymouth — from the island of Maidiattan to the Lake of the Hills, the trailic was introduced at the earliest periods. And we cannot now put our finger on the muj), to indicate a .spot where ardent spirits is not known to the natives. Is it at the mouth of the Columbia, ;aw their (1 among cry effort das were canker" 1 curiosity deep and r to action t was the rcat har to f that the , and it is , v'ith the niglU say, aents, gave , and served ors of war, ;tru;^glc be- and, so far Protestant means of introHing it, lijfaled the lated with a missions of side of the osscssion of iTo is noth- ival to the uiluenco as ' track of a fur trade is '.u; Indians, hat era you \n\ From the l.ake of And we lere ardent Columbia, ON THE INDIAN RACE. 36J the sources of the Multnomah, or the Rio del Nordc — the passes of the Kocky Mountains on Peace Hivor, or ilie shores of the Arctic Sea? it is known at all these places. The natives can call it by name, and they place a value on its possession. We do not wish to convey the idea that it is abundant at these remote places. We have reason to believe itis sel- dom seen. But we also believe that in proportion as it is scarce — in pro- portion as the quantity is small, and the occasion of its issue rare, so is the pric!> of it in .sale, and the value of it in gift, enhanced. And just so Car iiH it is used, it is pernicious in effect, unnecessary in practice, unwise in policy. The I'^rench, who have endeared themselves so much in the afP-ctions of the Indians, were earlier in Canada than the English upon the United States' coast. Cartier's treat of wine and bread to the Irotpiois of the Si. Lawrence, happened eighty-five years before the landing of the Pil- grims. They were also earlier to perceive the evils of an unrestrained trade, in which nothing was stipulated, and nothing prohibited. To pre- vent its irregularities, licenses were granted by the French government to individuals, on the payment of a price. It was a boon to superannu- ated odle-rs, and the number was limited. In ICS"), the number was twenty- five. But the remedy proved worse than the disease. These licenses became negotiable paper. They were .-sold from hand to hand, and gave birth to a trathc, which assumed the same character in tempo- ral afiliirs, that " indulgences" did in spiritual, i'liey were, in effect, licenses to commit every species of wrong, for those who got them at •ast, were generally persons under the government of no higli standard of moral responsibility ; and as they may bo sujiposed to have paid well for them, they were sure to make it up by excessive exactions upon the Indians. Courier dit bois, was the term first applied to them. Merchant voyarjcur^ was the appellation at a sui)sequent period. But whatever they were called, one spirit actuated them — the spirit of acquiring wealth by driving a gainful traffic with an ignorant people, and for this purpose ardent spirits was but too well ada[)ted. They transported it, along with articles of necessity, up long rivers, and over difficult portages. And when they had rcarhed the headers of theUpp'T Lakes, or the banks of the Sasketchawine, they were too fiir removed iVom the influence of courts, both judicial and ecclesiastical, tiv be in much «'read of them. Feuds, strifes, and murders ensui^d. Crime strode vmeheeked through the land, h^very Indian trader b"came a legislator ami a judge. His word was not only a law, hut it w.is a law wliieh possesses! the property of undergoing as ninny rrnivds and tnu(:itions as the interest, tlu' pride, or the passieii ni" tli" individird r m'lM'ed (^xju'dient. If wealth was ac- cumulated, it is ;!')? iiit"i,di'(! to inf 'r tlr.il the pressing wants of the In- dial IVII "!l w IS were not Ii'v-m! — -tb:i' the trad ■ v.ns nut a very acceptable and importa'il ore to tln'i.i. aiid tli,;t great p"iil ami ■ sprnse were not eneoun- i-k 362 THE INFLUENCE OF ARDENT SPIRITS tered, and a high degree of enterprise displayed in its prosecution. But it is contended, that if real wants were relieved, artificial ones were cre- ated — that if it substituted the gun for the bow, and shrouds and blan- kets in the place of the more expensive clothing of beaver skins, it also substkuted ardent spirits for water — intoxication for sobriety — disease for health. Those who entertain the opinion that the fall of Quebec, celebrated in England and America as a high military acliievcment, and the conse- quent surrender of Canada, produced any very important improvement in this state of things, forget that the leading principles and desires of the human heart are alike in all nations, acting under like circumstances. The desire of amassing wealth — the thirst for exercising power — the uride of information over ignorance — the power of vicious over virtuous principles, are not confined to particular eras, nations, or latitudes. They belong to mankind, and they will be pursued with a zeal as irrespective of equal and exact justice, wherever they are not restrained by the enno- bling maxims of Christianity. Whoever feels interested in looking back into this period of our com- mercial Indian affairs, is recommended to peruse the published statistical and controversial volumes, growing out of the Earl of Selkirk's scheme.i of colonization, and to the proceedings of the North West Company. This iron monopoly grew up out of private adventure. Such golden accounts were brought out of the country by the Tods, the Frobishers, and the M'Tavishes, and M'Gillvrays, who first visited it, that every bold man, who had either talents or money, rushed to the theatre of action. The boundary which had been left to the French, as the limit of trade, was soon passed. The Missinipi, Athaba.'iCa, Fort Chipewyan, Slave lake, Mackenzie's and Copper Mine Rivers, the Unjigah and the Oregon, were reached in a few years. All Arctic America was penetrated. The British government is much indebted to Scottish enterprise for the ex- tension of its power and resources in this quarter. But while we admire the zeal and boldness with which the limits of the trade were extended, we regret that a belief in the necessity of using ardent spirits caused them to be introduced, in any quantity, among the North West tribes. Other regions have been explored to spread the light of the gospel. This was traversed to extend the reign of intemperanci;, and to prove that the love of gain was so strongly implanted in the breast of the white man, as to carry him over regions of ice and snow, woods *nd waters, where the natives had only been intruded on by the Musk Ox and the Polar bear. Nobody will deem it too much to say, that wherever the current of the fur trade set, the nations were intoxicated, demoralized, depopulated. The terrible scourge of the small pox, which broke out in the country north west of Lake Superior in 17S2, was scarcely more fatal to the natives, though more rapid and striking in its effects, than the WM ON THE INDIAN RACE. 363 1. But ere cre- nd blan- I, it also -disease brated in e conse- rovement res of the mstances. iwer — the r virtuous es. They respective r the eiino- f our com- 1 statistical ;'s schemes Company. uch golden Frobishers, that every theatre of as the limit jhipewyan, ;ah and the penetrated, e for the ex- |e admire the itended, we ised them to 3S. the gospel, nd to prove lof the white 1 and waters, I Ox and the vhcrcver the llenioralized, \h broke out tartely more lets, than the power of ardent spirits. Nor did it produce so great a moral aflliction. For those who died of the varioloid, were spared the death of ebriety. Furs were gleaned with an iron hand, and rum was given out with an iron heart. There was no remedy for the rigors c f the trade ; and there was no appeal. Beaver was sought with a thirst of gain as great as that which carried Cortez to Mexico, and Pizarro to Peru. It had deadened the ties of humanity, and cut asunder the cords of private faith.* Like the Spaniard in his treatment of Capolicon, when the latter had given him the house full of gold for his ransom, he was himself basely executed. So the northern chief, when he had given his all, gave himself as the vic- tim at last. He was not, however, consumed at the stake, but at the bottle. The sword of his executioner was spirits — his gold, beaver shins. And no mines of the orecious metals, which the world has ever produced, have probably been more productive of wealth, than the fur-yielding regions of North America. But while the products of the chase have yielded wealth to the white man, they have produced misery to the Indian. The latter, suffering for the means of subsistence, like the child in the parable, had asked for bread, and he received it ; but, with it, he received a scorpion. And it is the sting of the scorpion, that has been raging among the tribes for more than two centuries, causing sickness, death, and depopulation in its track. It is the venom of this sting, that has proved emphatically " the blight of human bliss ! Curse to all states of man, but most to this." Let me not be mistaken, in ascribing effects disproportionate to their cause, or in overlooking advantages which have brought along in their train, a striking evil. I am no admirer of that sickly philosophy, which looks back upon a state of nature as a state of innocence, and which cannot appreciate the benefits the Indian race have derived from the discovery of this portion of the world by civilized and Christian nations. But while I would not, on the one hand, conceal my sense of the advantages, temporal and spiritual, which hinge upon this discovery, I would not, on the other, disguise the evils which intemperance has caused among them ; nor cease to hold it up, to the public, as a great and destroying evil, which was early introduced — which has spread extensively — which is in active operation, and which threatens yet more disastrous conse> quences to this unfortunate race. Writers have not been wanting, who are prone to lay but little stress upon the destructive influence of ardent spirits, in diminishing the native population, and who have considered its effects as trifling in comparison to the want of food, and the enhanced price created by this want.f The * The murder of Wadin, the cold-blooded assassination of Keveny,and the shoot* jng of Semple, are appealed to, as justifying the force of this remark. t The North American Review. Sanford's History of the United States, before the Revoluticn. \.i\,M 3f)4 TIIR INFMrKNOE OF ARDENT SmUTS nbuiuliinic or sran-ily of food is u j»riiici|il(> in political ti")ir.»n',y, which in assiiiin't! as llic piiiiiary causti ol'i!f|i()inilatiini. Ami, us sui'li, wttuee no reason (o (jm-slion ils sDUiuiiicss. Il'llic vaiiic of lalior, tlic price of ciulliiii,; and oilier ncn'ssary eonnnodilit's, can l)c rcfcni'd to I'le varyini' prices of vi i^i'lalili! and animal food, sw do nut siu; Unit the fact of u people's lieiii.^ eivilized or uncivilized, slioidd invaliilatc ' e principle!; and when we turn our eyes upon tiie forest \vc see tliat it does not. A pound of heaviT, wludi in IT.'JO, wlieu animal food was abundant, wiis worth here- ahout a French crown, is now, win ii food is scarce and til ar, ^' oitli from five to six dollars; and consecpiently, one pound of beascr noir will prttcure as mucli food and clothing; as live pounds of tlio like qiuility of beuver then. It is the failures of tin; race of furri-d ani- mals, and the want of industry in huntinL; thi'ni,that operate to produce depopul.itiiui. And what, wi; may ask, has so powerful an ( lH'ct in deslroyii);;' the energii'S of the liunter, as the vice of intempeiaiicc ? Slupi fvinj; his mind, and iMiervatinj;; his body, it leaves liim neither the vigor to provide for his temj)orary wants, nor tlw disposition to inepnre info those w hich rei^ard eternity. His liitural atlections are blunted, and all the. sterner and aolder (jualities of tin- Indiiin miml prostrated, llis family are iicrli^cted. They first become objects of pity to our citizens, and then of i!i.,<;ust. The want of wbolesonK* food and comfortable .'lo'luM;.'; ]>;• I luce disease. He falls at last himself, the. victim of disease, su|,v'rin(luced from drinking. Such \.< no exaggerated [jicture of the Indian, who is in a situation to rontract the iiabil of intemjierance. And it is only within the last year or eigliteen months — it is only since tlu; o[)eration t)f Temperance princi- ples has been felt in this remote place, that scenes of this kind have he- come unfrequent, and have almost ceased in our village, and in our set- tlement. And when W(> look abroad io other places, and observe the sj)read of temperance in the wide area from Louisiana to Main(>, we may almost fancy we behold the accomplishment of Indian fable. It is related, on the best authority, that among the extravagances of Spanish enter- prise, which characterized the era of the discovery of America, the na- tives liad reported the existence of a fountain in the interior of oik; of the islands, possessed of such magical virtues, that whoever bathed in its waters would be restored to the bloom of youth and the vigor of man- liood. In search of this wonderful fountain historians atnrm.that Ponce de Leon and his followers ranged the island. They only, howt^ver, dn-w upon themselves the charge of credulity. May wo not suppose this tale of the salutary fountain to he an Indian allegory of temj)erance ? It will, at least, admit of this application. And let us rejoice that, in the era of temperance, W(! hav found tlie spring which will restore bloom to the cheeks of the young man, and the panacea that will remove dis- ease from Ctic old. i\»n\y, which such, wi'uee tlif i)iice of I) l\ic viirjiug till' Tiicl of a r in'mi-iplo ; ilors not. A liiiiiiliiut, was is sciiiiHi ami one in.und iif |)()llllll^' 1)1' till) )l" I'lintHl ani- , \U'. to produce I iiii t'lU'ct in nli'inliiTancc ? iin lu'itlit'i" tlie lion to iiuiuire i-el.luntfil,aiid •ostialinl. His to our citi/iMis, nd conifortaWi) ctim of disease, II a situation to in the last year porance princi- vinil have be- and in our set- nd observe the Maine, we may It is related, Spanish cnter- nierica, the na- or of oni! of the r bathed in its e vii:;or of man- inn, that Ponce however, drew luppose this tale mperance ? It lice that, in the 11 restore bloom tvill remove dis- ON TIIR INDIAN HACR. 3G5 When we consider the eircfls which our own huinble efTorts as inha- bitants of a distant post liavi' pi'odu<'i'd in this lulmr of Immanily, hnvo we not every cnconrai^rineiit to perscvrrc ? Is it not an iti'oit saneiioned by the n()i)!est adi'elions of our nature — by th(r soundest principli's of pliilanthidpy — by the hiijhest aspirations of Christian bciu'voh'ni'c ? Is it not tlie work of patriots as well as (christians ? of f^ood eitizi-ns as well IIS ;^i)()(l iH'i'^lihors ? Is it not a hi;^li and iinpcrious ihity to rid our land of the foul stain of iiiti'm|)rraiice ? Is it aihity tooji id for us to accom- plish ? Is there aiiythini; unreasonaiile in tin; voUin " ohiif^atioiiS by which we art! bound ? Shall we lose property or f in the cause of temperanct^ r Will the debtor be debts, or the creditor less abb; to colk-ct them ? Shall we iiijur(! iiiai II by laboring alile lo pay hiii woman or child, by dashinj; away th»! cup of intoxication ? Shall wo incur the charge of bein!^ denominated fools or madiuen r Shall we vio- late any principles of morality, or any of tin; maxims of Christianity ? Shall we run the risk ol (uminishin;^ tiu! happiness ol ofliers, or putting )f ofh our own in jeojiardy ? Finally, shall we injure man — shall we oflend (Jod ? If neither of these evils will result — if the hif^hest principles of virtue and happiness sanction the measure — if learning applauds it, and religion ai)i)roves it — if good must result from its success, and injury cannot accrue from its failure, what further motive need we to impel us onward, to devote our best faculties in the cause, and neither to liilnt nor rest till the luodern hydra of hitemperance bo expelled from our country ? VENERABLE INDIAN CHIEF. The Cattaraugus (N. Y.) Whig, of a late date, mentions that Gov. Blacksnalce, the Grand Sachem of the Indian nation, was recently in that place. lb; resides on the Alleghany Reservation, about twenty miles from tlu! village ; is the successor of Corn Planter, as chief of the Six Nations — a nephew of Joseph Brant, and uncle of the celebrated Red Jacket. He was born near Cayuga Lake in 1749, being now ninety-six years of age. lie was in the battle of Fort Stanwix, Wyoming, &c., and was a warm friend of Gen. Washington during the Revolution. He was in Washington's camp forty days at the close of the Revolution — was appointed chief by him, and now wears suspended from his neck a beau tiful silver medal presented to him by Gen. Washington, bearing dato 1796. II ■> IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 11.25 Hiotogra|iiic Sdences Corporalion 23 WEST MAIN STtCET WiBSTH.N.Y. 14SI0 (716) •72-4503 <^ 4^ 4^'\ WrS ? ^* 4^\ FATE OF THE RED RACE IN AMERICA: THE POLICY PURSUED TOWARDS THEM BY GOVERNMENT, AND THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE TRIBES WHO HAVE REMOVED WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI.* The removal of the Indian Tribes within our State boundaries, to the west of the Mississippi, and their present condition and probable ulti- mate fate, have been the topic of such frequent speculation, misunder- standing, and may we not add, misrepresentation, withiu a few years past, both at home and abroad, that we suppose some notice of them, and particularly of the territory they occupy, and the result, thus far, of their experiment in self-government, drawn from authentic sources, may prove not unacceptable to the public. The nomadic and hunter states of society nv:ver embraced within themselves the elements of perpetuity. They have ever existed, in- deed, like a vacuum in the system of nature, which is at every moment in peril, and subject to be filled up and destroyed by the in-rushing of the surrounding element. Civilisation is that element, in relation to non -agricultural and barbaric tribes, and the only question with respect to their continuance as distinct communities has been, how long they could resist its influence, and at what particular era this influence should change, improve, undermine, or destroy them. It is proved by history, that two essentially different states of society,^ with regard to art and civilisation, cannot both prosperously exist together, at the same time. The one which is in the ascendant will absorb and destroy the other. A wolf and a lamb are not more antagonistical in the system of organic being, than civilisation and barbarism, in the great ethno- logical impulse of man's diffusion over the globe. In this impulse, bar- barism may temporarily triumph, as we see it has done by many striking examples in the history of Asia and Europe. But such triumphs have been attended with this remarkable result, that they have, in the end, reproduced the civilisation which they destroyed. Such, to quote no other example, was the eflfect of the prostration of the Roman type of civilisation by the warlike and predatory tribes of Northern Europe. Letters and Christianity were both borne down, for a while, by this irre« ■istible on-rush ; but they were thereby only the more deeply implanted • Democratic Review, 1844. 366 MERICA: IRNMBNT, AND HO HAVE l> >undarie8, to the [ probable ulti- tion, misunder- lii. a few years lotice of them, result, thus far, hentic sources, tnbraced within ver existed, in- t every moment e in-rushing of , in relation to on with respect how long they i this influence It is proved by , with regard to ber, at the same and destroy the I in the system le great ethno- lis impulse, bar- y many striking triumphs have ive, in the end, ;h, to quote no Roman type of rthern Europe, lile, by this irre- eeply implanted 366 ' "Vi f ■ 'S. «".•■ INDIAN POLIOV. 367 !n the stratum of preparing civilisation ; and in due time, like the grain that rots before it reproduces, sprang up with a vigor and freshness, which is calculated to be enduring, and to fill the globe. Civilisation may be likened to an absorbent body, placed in contact with an anti-absorbent, for some of the properties of which it has strong affinities. It will draw these latter so completely out, that, to use a strong phrase, it may be said to eat them up. Civilisation is found to derive some of the means of its perfect development from letters and the arts, but it cannot permanently exist without the cultivation of the soil. It seems to have been the fundamental principle on which the species were originally created, that they should derive their sustenance and means of perpetuation from this industrial labor. Wherever agri- cultural tribes have placed themselves in juxtaposition to hunters and erratic races, they have been found to withdraw from the latter the means of their support, by narrowing the limits of the forest and plains, upon the wild animals of which, both carnivorous and herbivorous, hun- ters subsist. When these have been destroyed, the grand resources of these hunters and pursuers have disappeared. Wars, the introduction of foreign articles or habits of injurious tendency, may[accelerate the period of their decline — a result which is still further helped forward by inter- nal dissensions, and the want of that political foresight by which civil nations exist. But withoi.w these, and by the gradual process of the narrowing down of their hunting grounds, and the conversion of the dominions of the bow and arrow to those of the plough, this result must inevitably ensue. There is no principle of either permanency or prosperity in the savage state. It is a question of curious and philosophic interest, however, to ob- serve the varying and very unequal effects, which different types of civilisation have had upon the wild hordes of men with whom it l.is come into contact. And still more, perhaps, to trace the original effici ency, or effeminacy of the civil type, in the blood of predominating races, who have been characterized by it. In some of the European stocks this type has remained nearly stationary since it reached the chivalric era. In others, it had assumed a deeply commercial tone, and confined itself greatly to the drawing forth, from the resources of new countries, those objects which invigorate trade. There is no stock, having claims to a generic nationality, in which the principle of progress has, from the outset, been so strongly marked, as in those hardy, brare and athletic tribes in the north of Europe, for whom the name of Teu- tons conveys, perhaps, a more comprehensive meaning, than the com- paratively later one of Saxons. The object of this race appears con- tinually to be, and to have been, to do more than has previously been done ; to give diffusion and comprehension to designs of improrement, and thus, by perpetually putting forth new efforts, on the globe, to carry ij P i 1 i j i i ) i i ii i * '1 !ii' 368 INDIAN POLICY. on man to nis highest destiny. The same impulsive aspirations of the spirit ot" projjross, the same eniTgetic onwiu'dncss of principle which overlluew Rome, overthrew, at another period, the simple institutions of the woad-stained Britons ; and, whatever other aspect it bears, we niUit attribute to the same national energy the modern introduction of European civilisation into Asia. VViicu these principles come to be applied to America, and to be tested by its native tribes, we shall clearly perceive their appropriate and distinc- tive eill'cts. In South America, where the type of chivalry marked the discoverers, barbarism has lingered u long the natives, without being destroyed, for three centuries. In Canada, which drew its early colonists exclusively from the feudal towns and seaports, whose inhabit- ants had it for a maxim, that they had done all that wiis required of good citizens, when they had done all that had been previously done, the native tribes have remained perfectly stationary. With the exception of slight changes in dress, and an absolute depreciation in morals, they are essentially at this day what they were in the respective eras of Car- tier and Champlain. In the native monarchies of Mexico and Peru, Spain overthrew the gross objects of idolatrous worship, and intercalated among these tribes the arts and some of the customs of the 16th century. With a very large proportion of the tribes but little was attempted be- yond military subjugation, and lets accomplished. The seaboard tribes received the ritual of the Romish church. Many of those in the inte rior, comprehending the higher ranges of the Andes and Cordilleras, re- main to this day in the undisturbed practice of their ancient superstitions and modes of subsistence. It is seen from recent discoveries, that there are vast portions of the interior of the country, unknown, unexplored and undescribed. We are just, indeed, beginning to comprehend the true character of the indigenous Indian civilisation of the era of the disco- very. These remarks are sufficient to show how feebly the obligations of letters and Christianity have been performed, with respect to the red men, by the colonists of those types of the early European civilisation, who routed themstilves on feudal tenures, m'litary renown, and an eccle- siastical system of empty ceremonies. It was with very difi'erent plans and principles that North America was colonized. We consider the Pilgrims as the embodiment of the true ancient Teutonic type. Their Alaric and Brennus were found in the pulpit and in the school-room. They came with high and severe notions of civil and religious liberty. It was their prime object to sus- tain themselves, not by conquest, but by cultivating the soil. To escape an ecclesiastical tyranny at home, they were willing to venture them- selves in new climes. But they meant to triumph in the arts of peace. They embarked with the Bible as their shield and sword, and they laid its principles at the foundation of all their institutions, civil, literary, in- INDIAN POLIOT. 869 dustrial, and ecclesiastic. They were pious and industrious themselves, and they designed to make the Indian tribes so. They bought their lands and paid for them, and proceeded to establish friendly neighbor- hoods among the tribes. Religious truth, as it is declared in the Gos- pel, was the fundamental principle of all their acts. In its exposition and daily use, they followed no interpretations of councils at variance with its plain import. This every one was at liberty to read. Placed side by side with such an enlightened and purposed race, what had the priests of the system of native rites and superstitions to expect.' There could be no compromise of rites — no partial conformity — no giving up a part to retain the rest — as had been done in the plains of Central America, Mexico and Yucatan. No toleration of pseudo-paganism, as had been done on the waters of the Orinoco, the Parana and the Para- guay. Thfy must abandon the system at once. The error was gross and total. They must abjure it. They had mistaken darkness for light ; and they were now offered the light. They had worshipped Lucifer instead of Immanuel. This the tribes who spread along the shores of the North Atlantic were told, and nothing was held back. They founded churches and established schools among them. They trans- lated the entire Bible, and the version of David^s Psalms, and the Hymns of Dr. Watts, into one of their languages. Two types of the human race, more fully and completely antagonistical, in all respects, never came in contact on the globe. They were the alpha and omega of th"! ethnological chain. If, therefore, the Red Race declined, and the white increased, it was because civilisation had more of the prin- ciples of endurance and progress than barbarism ; because Christianity was superior to paganism ; industry to idleness ; agriculture to hunting ; letters to hieroglyphics ; truth to error. Here lie the true ^ccrets of the Red Men's decline. There are but three principal results which, we think, the civilized world could have anticipated for the race, at the era of the discovery. 1. They might be supposed to be subject to early extermination on the coasts, where they were found. A thousand things would lead to this, which need not be mentioned. Intemperance and idleness alone were adequate causes. 2. Philanthropists and Christians might hope to re claim them, either in their original positions on the coasts, or in agri- cultural communities in adjacent parts. 8. Experience and forecast mi«;ht indicate a third result, in which full success should attend neither of the foregoing plans, nor yet complete failure. There was nothing, exactly, in the known history of mankind, to guide opinion. A mixed condition of things was the most probable result. And this, it might be anticipated, would be greatly modified by times and seasons, circumstances and localities, acting on particular tribes. Nothing less could have been expected but the decline and extinction of some tribe, 24 |i 370 INDIAN POL:OY. ivhilst the removal of others, to less exposed positions, would be found to tell upon theii- improvement. The cfFfcts of letters and Christianity would necessarily he slow ; but they were elTects, which the history of discovery and civilisation, in other parts of the world, proved to be effective and practical. What was this mixed condition to eventuate in ? — how long was it to continue ? Were the tribes to exercise sove* reign political jurisdiction over the tracts they lived on ? Were they to submit to the civilized code, and if so, to the penal code only, or also to the civil ? Or, if not, were they to exist by amalgamation with the European stocks, and thus contribute the elements of a new race ? These, and many other questions, early arose, and were often not a little perplexing to magistrates, legislatures, and governors. It was evident the aboriginal race possessed distinctive general rights, but these existed contemporaneously, or intermixed with the rights of the discoverers. How were these separate rights to be defined .' How were the weak to be protected, and the strong to be restrained, at points beyond the ordinary pale of the civil law .' If n red man killed a white, without the ordinary jurisdiction of the courts, could he be seized as a criminal? And if so, wore civil offences, committed without the jurisdiction of either territory, cognizable in either, or neither .' Could there be a supremacy within a supremacy ? And what was the limit between State and United States laws } Such were among the topics entering into the Indian policy. It was altogether a mixed system, and like most mixed systems, it worked awkwardly, confusedly, and sometimes badly. Precedents were to be established for new cases, and these were per- petually subject to variation. Legislators, judges, and executive officers were often in doubt, and it required the wisest, shrewdest, and best mea in the land to resolve these doubts, and to lay down rules, or advice, for future proceeding in relation to the Red Race. It will be suffic"?nt to Dear cut the latter remark, to say, that among the sages who leemcd this subject important, were a Roger Williams, a Penn, a Frinklin, a Washington, a Jefferson, a Monroe, a Crawford, and a Calhoun. It must needs have happened, that where the Saxon race went, the principles of law, justice, and freedom, must prevail. These principles, as thej' existed in England at the beginning of the sixteenth century, were transferred to America, with the Cavaliers, the Pilgrims, and the Quakers, precisely, as to the two first topics, as they existed at home. Private rights were as well secured, and public justice as well awarded here, as there. But they also brought over the aristocratic system, which was upheld by the royal governors, who were the immediate re- presentatives of the crown. The doctrine was impre.scriptible, that the fee of all public or unpatented lands was in the crown, and all inhabit- ants of the realm owed allegiance and fealty to the crown. This doc- trine, when applied to the native tribes of America, left them neither INDIAN POLtOT. 371 Id be found [Christianity ; history of 9ved to be ) eventuate ercise sove- iete they to )n1y,oralso on with the I new race ? n not a little vas evident these existed discoverers, ere the weak I beyond the ■hite, without as a criminal ? urisdiction of d there be a limit between opics entering L and like most netimes badly, ese were per- cutive officers and best mea or advice, for suffic=?nt to who teemed a Fr«»nklin, a houn. race went, the lese principles, eenth century, grims, and the isted at home, well awarded )cratic system, immediate re- ptible, that the and all inhabit- wn. This doc- them neither fee-simple in the soil, nor political sovereignty over it. It cut them down to vassals, but, by a legal solecism, they were regarded as a sort of free vassals. So long as the royal governments remained, they had the usufruct of the public domain — the right of fishing, and hunting, and planting upon it, and of doing certain other acts of occupancy ; but this right ceased just as soon, and as fast, as patents were granted, or the publie exigency required the domain. The native chiefs were quieted with presents from the throne, through the local officers, and their ideas of iu- dependcnce and control were answered by the public councils, in which friendships were established, and the public tranquillity looked after. Private purchases were made from the outset, but the idea of a public treaty of purchase of the soil under the proprietary and royal governors, was not entertained before the era of William Penn. It remained for the patriots of 1775, who set up the frame of our pre- sent government, by an appeal to arms, to award the aboriginal tribes the full proprietary right to the soil they respectively occupied, and to guarantee to them its full and free use, until such right was relinquished by treaty stipulations. So far, they were acknowledged as sovereigns. This is the first step in their ppiitical exaltation, and dates, in our re- cords, from the respective treaties of Fort Pitt, September 17, 1778, and of Fort Stanwix, of October 22, 1784. The latter was as early after the establishment of our independence, as these tribes — the Six nations, who, with the exception of the Oneidas, sided with the parent country — could be brought to listen to the terms of peace. They were followed by the Wyandots, Delawares, and Chippewas, and Ottowas, in January, 17S5 ; by the Cheiokees, in November of the same year ; and by the Choctaws and Shawnees, in January, 1786. Other western nations followed in 1789 ; the Creeks did not treat till 1790. And frcra this era, the system has been continued up to the present moment, ii may be affirmed, that there is not an acre of land of the public domaiu of the United States, sold at the land offices, from the days of General Washington, but what has been acquired in this manner. War, in which we and they have been frequently involved, since that period, has con- veyed no territorial right. We have conquered them, on the field, not to usurp territory, but to place them in a condition to observe how much more their interests and permanent prosperity would be, and have ever been, promoted by the plough than the sword. And there has been a prompt recurrence, at every mutation from war to peace, punctually, to that fine sentiment embraced in the first article of the first treaty ever made between the American government and the Indian tribes, namely, that all offences and animosities " shall be mutually forgiven, and buried in deep oblivion, and never more be had in remembrance."* • Treaty of Fort Pitt, 177a 372 ItfDIAN POMOT. The first step to advance the aboriginnl man to his natural and just political ri:;hts, nainuly, thn acknowiuilgment of hii right tj the soil, we have mentioned ; but those that were to succeed it were more dilFicult and complex in their bearings. Congress, from the earliest traces ot their action, as they appear in their journals and public acts, confined the operation of the civil code to the territory actually acquired by negotia> tion, and treaties duly ratified by the Senate, and proclaimed, agreeably to the Constitution, by the President. So much of this pulilic territory as fell within the respective State Hnesy fell, l)y the terms of our polili« cal compact, under Stale latoiy and the jurisdiction of the State courts ; and OS soon as new tracts of the Indian territory, thus within State boun« daries, were acquired, the State laws had an exact corresponding exten* sion until the whole of such Indian lands had been acquired. This pro* vided a definite and clear mode of action, and if it were sometimes the ■ubject of doubt or confliction, such perplexity arose from the great ex- tension of the country, its sparsely settled condition, and the haste or ignorance of local magistrates. And these dilficulties were invariably removed whenever the cases came into the Supreme Court of the United States. Without regard to the area of the States, but including and having respect only to the territories, and to the vast and unincorporated wiU derness, called the " Indian country," Congress provided a special code of laws, and from the first, held over this part of the Union, and holds over it now, full and complete jurisdiction. This code was designed chiefly to regulate the trade carried on at those remote points between the white and red men, to preserve the public tranquillity, and to provide for the adjudication of offences Citizens of the United States, carrying the passport, license, or authority of their government, are protected by their papers thus legally obtained ; and the tribes are held answerable for their good treatment, and if violence occur, for their lives. No civil process, however, has efficacy in such positions ; and there is no com- pulsory legal colleclionof debts, were it indeed practicable, on the Indian territories. The customs and usages of the trade and intercourse, as established from early times, prevail there. These customs are chiefly founded on the patriarchal system, which was found in vogue on the settlement of the country, and they admit of compensations and privileges founded on natural principles of equity and right. The Indian criminal code, whatever that is, also prevails there. Tlie only excep- tion to it arises from cases of Americans, maliciously killed within the ■** Indian country," the laws of Conqjress providing, that the aggressors «hould b ' surrendered into the hands of justice, and tried by the nearest United States courts. These preliminary facts will exhibit some of the leading features of the mixed system alluded to. Its workings were better calculated for INDIAN rOMCY. the early ataijcs of society, while population was sparse and the two rnces, ai bodies, ki-pt far apart, tliuii fur ita inaturer periods. As the in* turvciiiii^ lauds l)i;cume ceded, and soil, and nettled, and the tribes them* selves) l)c rent. Tlirou jliout tlv.' whole period of the administrations of Washington, and Joliti .\Jauii, and Jelil-rsou, a period of twenty years, the low state of our population, and the great extent and unreclaimed character of the public dotnain, left the Indians undisturbed, and no questions of much importance occurred to test the permanency of the system us regards the welfare of the Indians. Mr. JelL'rson foresaw, however, the ufFect of encroachments beyond the Ohio, and with an enlightened regard for the race and their civilisation, prepared a new and consolidated code of all prior acts, with some salutary new provisions, which had the eflt;ct to systematize the trade and intercourse, and more fully to protect the rights of the Indians. This code served, with occasional amendments, through the succeeding administrations of Madison, Monroe, and John Quincy Adams, into that of General Jaclcson, when, in 1834, the greatly ad- vanced line of the frontiers, the multiplied population, and necessarily increased tbrce of the Indian department, and the large amount of Indian annuities to be paid, called for its thorough revision, and a new general enactment was made. Previously, however, to this time, during the administration of Mr. Monroe, it was p^rci^ived that the Indian tribes, as separate communi* tics, living in, and surrounded by, people of European descent, and gov- crned by a widely ditfjrent system of laws, arts, and customs, could not be expected to arrive at a state of permanent prosperity while thus lo- cally situated. The tendency of the Saxon institutions, laws, and juris- prudence, was to sweep over them. The greater must needs absorb the less. And there appeared, on wise and mature reflection, no rea- sonable hope to the true friends of the native race, that they could sus- tain themselves in independency or success as foreign elements in the midst of the State communities. It was impossible that two systems of governments, so diverse as the Indian and American, should co-exist on the same territory. All history proved this. The most rational hope of success for this race, the only one which indeed appeared practical on a scale contmensurate with the object, was to remove them, with their own consent, to a position entirely without the boundaries of the State jurisdictions, where they might assert their political sovereignty, and live and develope their true national character, under their own laws. The impelling cause for the action of the government, during Mr Monroe's administration, was the peculiar condition of certain tribes, liv- ing on their own original territories, within the State boundaries, and I 374 INDIAN POLICY. who were advene lo further cessions of such territory. TTic qucntion aasumed its principal intt-rcst in ihu Stain of Georgia, within which por* tions of lht» Creek and Cherokee tribes were then living. Al»oul ten millions of acres of lands were thus in the occupancy of these two tribes. As the population of Georgia exj)anded and approached the Indian set- tlements, the evils of the mixed political system alluded to began strong- ly to evince themselves. In the progress of the dispersion of the human race over the globe, there never was, perhaps, a more diverse h'gal, po- litical, and moral amalgamation attempted, than there was found to ex- ist, when, in this area, the descendants from the old Saxons, north-men and Hugenots from P^urope, came in contact with the descendants (we apeak of a theory) of the idle, pastoral, un[)hilosophic, non-inductive race of central Asia, living in the genial climate and sunny valleys of Georgia and Alabama. The American government had embarrassed itself by stipulating at an early day, with the State of Georgia, to extinguish the Indian title with- in her boundaries, at the earliest [)racticable period, when it could be done '' peaceably and on reasonable conditions." The Indians, as they ad- vanced in agriculture, became averse to sell. The Georgians, as they increased in numbers, became importunate for the territory to which they had, in this event, the reversionary right. The President was frequtsntly importuned by the State authorities. The Indians were frequently brought to consider the subject, which was one that increased its impor- tance with years. We have deemed it proper to put this matter in its right attitude in relation to the great question of Indian removal ; and as furnishing, as it did, reasons for the early consideration and action of the government. It is not our intention to pursue the Georgia question disjunctively — we have neither time nor space for it here, and will only further premise, that it is susceptible of some very different views from those often pre- mised of it.* That it was one of the prominent considerations which led the administration of Monroe to take up betimes tlie general question of the Indian tribes, is well known and remembered, and apparent from a perusal of the public documents of the era. Governed by such considerations, Mr. Monroe communicated a spe- cial message to Congress on the 27th of January, 182r), recommending the removal of all the tribes within the States and Territories, and pro- viding for their future " location and government." This is the official date and foundation of the plan of removal, which ha^s been so generally, ♦ Wc have only space to say here, that the ression of the Goorsn'a lands was slV- seq lently mjido by the Lower Crocks under the chiphainoy of General M'Intosh, who was the first to aflix his signature to it. For this act he paid the penalty of iiis life ; the Upper Creeks and their adherents, having assemhled in arms, surrounded his house, and fired three hundred balls into it, killing its unhappy, but distinguish' ed inmate. INDIAN POLICY. and may wc not add, lo successfully and propitiously to the brat inte* rests of the tribes, carried into eflect. " lieiii;; deeply impressed with the opinion," observes this venerated statesman, who has, years since, gone to join the patriot spirits who achieved our independence — 'Mhat the removal of the Indian tribes from the lund which they now occu< py, witliin the limits of the several States and Territories, to the coun* try lying wstward and northward thereof, wilhiii our acknowledged boundaries, is of very hi;rh importance to the Union, and may be accom* plished on conditions, and in a manner, to promote the interests and hap- piness of those tribes, the attention of the government has been long drawn, with great solicitude, to the object. " For the removal of the tribes within the limits of the State of Gcor* gia,thc motive has been peculiarly strong, arising from the compact with that State, whereby the United States are bound to extinguish the In- dian title to the lands within it, whenever it may be done peaceably, and on reasonable conditions. *' In the fulfdment of this compact, I have thought that the United States should act with a generous spirit, that they should omit nothing which should comport with a liberal construction of the instrument, and likewise be in accordance with the just rights of those tribes. From the view which 1 have taken of the subject, I am satisfied that, in the dis- charge of these important duties, in regard to both the parties alluded to, the United States will have to encounter no conflicting interests with either : on the contrary, that the removal of the tribes from the Territo- ries which they inhabit, to that which was designated in the message at the commencement of the session, which would accomplish the object for Georgia, under a well digested plan for their government and civili- sation, in a mode agreeable to themselves, would not only shield them from impending ruin, but promote their welfare and happiness. Experi ence has clcarty deinonslrated that, in their present state, it is impossible to incorporate them, in such musses, in any form whatever, into our system. It has also demonstrated, xoith equal certainty, that without a timely anticipa- tion of, and provision against, the dangers lo which they are exposed, under causes which it will be difficult, if not impossible, to control, their degrada- tion and extermination will be inevitable.''* We have underscored the last two sentences, because they express in forcible and just language, the experience of the American govern- ment, in relation to the subject, afler an experiment of fifty years, dating from '75, and lie, indeed, at the foundation of the present Indian policy. It is also the experience of sound and calm observers, who have watch- ed the operation of our laA's and customs upon the isolated Indian com« muniiies in the States. Every year has exemplified the futility of rais- ing them up to the European standard in industry, in intelligence or cha- racter, while thus situated ; nor indeed, has it been practicable to shield 11 H 376 INDIAN POLICY. them effectually against the combined e!!;i;ts of intemperance, personal ■loth, and of popular and vulgar contumely. Mr. Calhoun, whose report on the subject was transmitted to Con- gress, with the message above named, communicates the details essen- tial to the execution of the proposed plan. He states the whole num- ber of Indians to be removed from the States and Territories, excluding those located west and north of Lake Michigan and the Slraits of St. Mary's, at 97,000 souls, who occupy about 77 millions of acres of land. The country proposed for their location ia that stretching immediately weft, beyond the boundaries of the States of Missouri and Arica\:>A3, having the River Arkansas running through its centre from west to east, the IMissouri and Red rivers respectively as the northern boundary, and the vast grassy plains east of the Rocky Mountains, as its western limit. The map which we publish of this territory, is drawn on the basis of one which was published by Congress in 1S34, in illustration of the re- port of the committee on Indian affairs of May 30th of that session. It embraces all the locations of tribes to that period. The plan proposed the gratuitous grant of the country to the respec- tive tribes, and their removal to it at government expense. It embraces the transference to it, of their schools established by religious societies, and supported, in part, by the civilisation fund, and all their means of moral and religious culture. It is based on the pursuit of agriculture, the me- chanic arts, and the raising of cattle and stock. It invests the tribes with full power of making and executing all their laws and regulations, civil and criminal. It stipulates military protection, to keep the sur* rounding tribes at peace. It leaves them their political sovereignty ; being without the boundary of the States, under their own chiefs and local governors, with such aids as are necessary to enable the various tribes to associate and set up the frame of an associated government to be managed by themselves, and as subsequently proposed in Congress, to be represented in that body whenever the system shall be perfected so as to justify this measure. It proposed, as the basis of removal, a solenm act of Congress, guaranteeing the country to them, and exclud- ing its future incorporation into the States. A second location, in the northern latitudes, was proposed for the Indians west of Michigan, where a further body of 32,266 souls were estimated to reside. Such were the general principles of Mr. Monroe's plan, submitted in 1825, and subsequently adopted by Congress, in its essirntial features. It has now been in operation Eifit'rEKN years, and it is proposed, in bringing this paper to a close, briefly to examine the condition and pros- pects of the expatriated tribes, in the country to which they have been transferred. By a report from the proper department, transmitted to Congress with INDIAN POLICY. 377 vest to east, the President's mcssagR in 1836, the result of the first ten years' expe- riment is shown to have been the actual migration of 40,000 from their original seats, east, to the allotted Indian territory, wt'st of the Mis- sissippi. Of this number, 18,000 were Creeks, 15,000 Chocta\vs,fi,000 Cherokees, 2,000 Chippewas, Oltawas, and Pottowatloniiis, 1,300 Shawnees, 800 Deluwares, 500 Quapaws, 400 Seminoli's, 600 Kicka- poos, 400 Senecas, and an average of, say 250 each, of Appalachicolas, Weas, Piankashaws, Peorias and Kaskaskias. In thii statement, small fractions over or under, are omitted. A location and permanent home has been provided for seventeen tribes and parts of tribes ; a number which, in the succeeding seven years, we speak from documcnils before us, has been largely augmented. The whole body of the Cherokees, of the Creeks, or Muscogees, of the Chickasaws and Choctaws, &c., and also, with the exception of one principal band, of the Seminoles, have boen removed. Portions of other tribes, not then full, have joined their kindred ; and soTfie whole tribes, who had not before come into the ar- rangement, and ceded their lands east, as the Miamas of the Wabash, and the Wyandots of Sanduskey, have since accepted locations in the Indian territory. The Chickasaws are all located with their afliiiated countrymen, the Choctaws ; and numbers of the ancient Iroquois con- federacy, the Six Nations of New York, as well as the ancient Mohe- gans and Munsees, have, within a few years, selected locations south of the Missouri. The entire number of red men now concentrated on those plains and valleys, where winter scarcely exerts any severity of power, may be set down at 77,000 souls, leaving, from the olficial report of 1841, but 21,774 of ihe original estimated number of 1825, to be remov- ed ; exclusive of those west of the straits of Michilimachinac and St. Mary's. From the documents accompanying the annual report transmitted to Congress by the President, in December, 18-iO, the amount of funds invested by the government in stocks, for the Indians, was $2,5S0,000, on which the annual interest paid to them was $131,05. Twenty-four of the tribes had permanently appropriated, by treaty, $60,730 jkt an- ipim, for the purpose of education. The number of schools maintained, anti the number of pupils actually taught, are not furnished. It is grati- fying to know, from this source, that civilisation, agriculture, and the mechanic arts, are making a rapid progress, nnd that education and Christianity are walking hand-in-hand. Planting and raising cattle are adopted generally. Portions of the most advanced tribes have devoted themselves to the mechanic arts, supplying themselves, to a limited ex- tent, with smiths, wheelwrights, carix'nters, and joiners, and some other Dranches. Spinning and hund-loonj weaving are practised to some ex- tent. There are native nuTclianls, among the throe principal southern tribes, who ship theii own cotton and other products to market, and »up- !! 378 INDIAN POLICY. ply their people, in return, with such products of the East and West In- dies, and other parts of the world, as they require. A large part of the contracts, particularly for Indian corn, required to subsist the United States troops in that quarter of the Union, is furnished by native con- tractors. Their legislation is performed in representative councils, and is well adapted to the actual and advancing state of society. Many of their leading men are well educated ; some of them classically ; and the general moral and intellectual tone and habits of the tribes, are clearly and strikingly on the advance. It requires, it is believed, but time and perseverance in civil associations, to lead them to the same results ar- rived at by other barbarous nations, and to demonstrate to them the value and importance of a general political confederation, founded on the principles of equal rights and equal representation, supported by public virtue and intelligence. Having sketched the cause of the decline of that portion of the North American Indians, who were seated alons the Atlantic, and the plan proposed for checking it, we shall now, with the map and documentary evidence before us, devote a few moments to the present condition and prospects of the more prominent tribes. 1. The Choctaws, beginning at the extreme south of the territory, are the first in position. They occupy the country above the State of Ar- kansas, extending from the Arkansas to the Red river, following up the Canadian branch of the former, comprising an area of about 150 miles in breadth, by 200 in length. They are bounded by Texas south-west. The country is well adapted for grain and the raising of stock, in its middle and northern parts, and for cotton on che south. Many of the natives have large fields, where, but a few years since, the forest was untouched. Saw mills, grist mills, and cotton gins, are either erecting or erected throughout the country. Salt is manufactured by an intelli- gent Choctaw. Iron ore has bt:n found, and specimens of gold have been picked up in various places. This tribe is governed by a written constitution and laws. Their ter- ritory is divided into three districts, each of which elects, once in four years, a ruling chief, and ten representatives. The general council, thus constituted, and consisting of thirty councillors, meets annually, on the first Monday in October. Voters must be Choctaws, of age, and residents of the districts. The three chiefs have a joint veto power on all laws passed ; but two-thirds of the council may re-pass them after such rejection. The council of thirty appoint their own speaker and clerk, and keep a journal. They meet in a large and commodious council-house, fitted up with seats for members and spectators, and committee rooms. Their sessions are, usually, about ten days in duration. They are paid two dollars per diem for their services, out of public funds. N INDIAN POLICY. 379 In addiiion to this evrdence of capacity for self-government, there are judicial districts established, the right of trial by jury is secured, and there is an appeal to the highest tribunal. All the males, of a special age, are subject to do military duty : fur this purpose the territory is subdivided into thirty two captaincies, the whole being placed under the orders of a general. The council has passed many good and wholesome laws ; among them, one against intemperance and the sale of ardt>nt spirits. The collection of debts is at present not compulsory, being regulated by questions of credit, punctuality, and honor, which are to be adjusted between the buyer and seller. The country is too sparsely settled, and the popular odium against incarceration too strong, to permit a resort to it. Thus, it will be seen, this tribe exhibit in their frame of government the elements of a representative republic, not a pure democracy, with perhaps sufficient conservative power to guard against sudden popular effervescence. The Choctaws have twelve public schools, established by treaty stipulations with the United States. There are several missionaries amongst them, of the Presbyterian and Methodist denominations, whose labors are reported by the public agents to be beneficial, and calculated to advance their condition. There are four public blacksmith shops, two of which are exclusively worked by the natives. The strikers, or assistants, at all the shops, are natives. Shops have also been erected, in various parts of the nation, which are occupied only in the spring and summer, in planting and crop time. The mechanics in these are na- tives, who are paid, not by the individuals requiring aid, but out of public funds. The nation has an academy located in Scott county, Kentucky, at which 12.5 students were taught in 1839 and 1840. This institution is now in the process of being established in their own territory. This tribe we learn by the Secretary of Wp.r's report, appropriated $1S,C00 of their annuities, in 1S43, to educational purposes. 2. Chickasaws. This tribe is of the same lineage as the Choctaws ; and, by a compact with tl latter, they occupy the same territory, and live intermixed with them. It constitutes a part of this compact, that the Chickasaws are to concentrate their population, and form a fourth election district, which shall be entitled to elect ten representatives, and three senatorial chiefs, to the national Council. The aggregate amount of the vested funds of this tribe, in 18-1.0, was $515,230 44; of which $146,000 is devoted to orphans. The annual interest paid by the gov- ernment is $27,063 83. They participate equally in the advantages of the Choctaw academy, and have had many of their youth educated at that institution. 3. Next, in geographical position, to the united Choctaws and Chick- asaws, are the Muskogees, who are more generally known under the name of Creeks. They occupy a territory one hundred and fifty noiles 380 IXO.'AN rOLICY. in length, by ninety in breadth. They are bounded on the south by the Cauadian fork of tlio Arkansas, and by the district of ihe Seminoies, which lit;s between the main branch of this stream and its north fork. Their territory reaches to a point opposite the junction of the Neosito, and is protracted tlience north to the Cherokee boundary. It is a rich tract, well adapted to the growth of corn, vegetables, and esculents, and the raising of stock. It is not as abundantly watered by running streams as some of the tracts, or rather, it is a characteristic of its smaller streams that they run dry, or stand in pools, during the latter part of summer. In place of these, it has some good spi ings. The main and the north fork of the Canadian are exemptions from the eflects of summer drouth. In point of salubrity, the country is not inferior to other portions of the Indian territory. The government of the Creeks is still essentially the same which they exercised on the banks of the Chattahoochee and the plains of Georgia. They exist in chieftainships, each head of which has his own local jurisdiction, civil and criminal. Each ruling chief has his village and his adherents ; and ^le condition of things partakes of what we shall be understood by designating feudal traits. They have no written con- stitution ; their laws are, however, now reduced in part to writing. General councils, or conventions, not exact in the period of their occur- rence, consider and decide all general questions. At these, the chief- tainships are all entitled to representation. Local questions, of right and police, come before the local chiefs, and are settled according to usage. They adhere to the original mode of working common or town fields, at which it is the duty of all to assist, both in the original clear* ing and in the annual labor of planting and reaping. There are also in- dividuals, possessing slaves, who manage pretty extensive plantations. More corn ia raised by this tribe than by any other now located West. Over and above their own wants, they have for several years had a large amount for sale and exportation. Less attention has been paid to the raising of stock, for which, indeed, the country has been deemed less propitious ; but this branch of industry has of late years attracted more attention. The Creeks had, for many years prior to their removal, been divided into upper and lower towns — a distinction which has been transferred tc the West. Opothleyoholo is the chief of the Upper, and Roly Mcln tosh of the Lower Creeks. These two chieftainships embrace the lessei ones, and divide the nation into two parties. It was the Lower towns, headed by the father of the present chief (whose tragic death we have mentioned), that ceded the Georgian territory, and thus sided in the policy of that State. The condition in which this tribe existed, in por- tions of Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, vas, in other respects, pecu- liar. In emerging, as they were well in the pn^Pi^ ot .Unn^', f'-orr \\uf ncviAn POLICY. 381 ktinter to thfi agricultural f tate, the institution of slavery, by which they vere sunountled, and in which they participated, gave a peculiar de- velopment to their industry. Chiets, who wore averse to work them- selves, employed slaves, and thus the relation of planter and slave was established lonj before the question of their removal occurred. The eflects of this were to exalt a portion of the nation above, and to depress others below, the average standing. The disparity which took place in laborious habits and in wealth, also impre.ssed itself on education, dress, manners, and in ormatioa generally. Although the idea of slavery was well known to the red race from the earliest times, and they all have a word for it, in their native vocabularies, and practised it on their pri- soners, yet the result we are considering was accelerated by an admix- ture of European blood in their chieftains. Hence it is that this tribe, and one or two others in the south, have for years been able to put forth intelligent chiefs to tran.sact their public business, who have astonished the circles at Washington. Yet, if they were followed to the huts of the common people, at home, there was a degree of igno- rance and barbarity, even below the standard of our leading northern tribes. Two kinds of testimony, respecting the condition of the southern tribes, both very dilTerent, and both true, could therefore be given. The Creeks came west, soured and disappointed, and but little dis- posed for the effort before them. They had suffered in various ways, and they had left the southern slopes and sunny valleys of the southern Alleganies with " a longing, lingering look." They had never mani- fested a general interest in schools, and none whatever in religion. Th» latter is still the prevalent feeling. It is believed there is not a mission- ary now tolerated among them. There is a more friendly feeling towards education. Neither had they made much advance in mechanic arts. The chiefs were too proud, the common people too indolent, to learn the use of the saw or the hammer. Some change, in this respect, is thought to have ensued. Mechanics are employed for their benefit and at their charges, by the government, which must introduce the elements of mechanical industry. They dress in a rather gaudy, but picturesque manner. They live in comfortable houses of squared or scored logs, fitted up with useful articles of furniture, and they employ beasts of burthen and of pleasure. It is the evidence of the government agents, that the signs of advancing thrift and industry are among them. Time alone, it is believed, is necessary, with a perseverance in present efforts, to carry them onwards to civilisation and prosperity.* 4. Seminoles. This tribe is of the language and lineage of the Creeks. They are appropriately placed on a tract within the general ♦ Tin's tribe lias, ihe past year (1843), pnsscd a law ex-pplliii!f nil while men who play at cards, fruiu the limits ol the notion, wlieiher ihcy have Indiaa wives or not. ' In I ^11 ill 1M». 382 INDIAN POLICY. area of the latter, bounded on the south by the Canadian fork of the Arkansas, and by the bmls of the Choctaws and Chickasaws. The tract has an extent of seventy miles from east to west, and is fully ade- quate to their wants. A blacksmith^s shop is maintained for them ; they are furnished with agricultural implements, and have been gratui- tously subsisted, as other tribes, one year, at the public expense. It Is thought to be unfavorable to their progress, that they have been allowed to migrate with their slaves, who are averse to labor and exert a para- lysing influence on their industry. This tribe is far behind the other Bouthern tribes in civilisation and manners. They occupied, while in Florida, a region truly tropical in its climate, and which yielded spon- taneously no unimportant part of their subsistence, in the arrowroot and in sea tish. Their chief product thus far, in the west, has been corn. They live under the authority of local chiefs, who, as in all their past history, exercise influence in proportion to their talents and courage. Their withdrawal from scenes and situ.itions which served as nurseries of idle, savage habits, and their association with the other leading tribes, who are now bent on supporting themselves exclusively by agriculture, have been favorable. They have been at peace since their arrival on the waters of the Arkansas ; and it is anticipated that t^ey will, by ex- ample and emulation, assimilate themselves in industry with the pre- existing tribes. It has already been demonstrated that they will sus- tain themselves in their new field of labor. But few of their numbers •^from the last accounts not exceeding 100* — now remain in Florida. 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 ad- mitted, much to attain. The original position of the Cherokees, in the valleys and the western spurs of the AUeganies, and remote from the disturbing causes wtiich agitated the other tribes, was highly favor- able 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, cultiva- tors ; 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 governmen-t, placed themselves between the waters of the Wikite river and the Arkansas. This advance formed the nucleus • Secretary of War's report, 1843. INDIAN FOUCY. 383 of that politiciil party, who have mingled in their recent asscinhlies 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. Thi» was a broad question of 8alc or no sate, emiyration or non-emigration. At the head of the affirmative party was Ridge ; at the head of the negative, I{fl.ss. 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 numbei 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 Mis- sissippi. It was a minority treaty, but the consideration was ample ; it secured large prospective advantages, besides a large and rich dornain in tho West. It was, therefore, sustained by the government ; the U. S Senate ratified it, adding some further immunities and further compensa- tion, 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, consist- ing of a house of delegates or representatives, annually chosen by dis- tricts ; 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 betn in operation some six or seven years, has been found adequate to sustain itself through scenes of severe trial ; Lad it must be regarded Bs one which, modified as it ma}' be, is destined to endure. The territory of the Cherokees is between that of the Creeks and Osagps. 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 comforta- ble 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 merchimts 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 catle, and produce a species of grass, which, when propenjr 384 INDIAN POLICY. cured, is little inferior to timothy. With a country whicli }ias tluis the elfmi'Uts of prosperity in itself, and an intelligent and industrious popu> lation, thii tribe inuit, ere long, present the gratifying spectacle uf • civilized race. 6. The Oiages. 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 ugents to induce them to give up their erratic mode of life, and become agriculturists. To this end stock and agricultural imple- ments 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 Osagps. They have, from an early day, been plunderers on that fron- tier, amcng red and white men. Posse.ssing a large territory, formerly well supplied with the deer, elk and buffalo, powerful in numbers, cou- rageous 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 free- dom 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, ihe 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 impos- ing and interesting colony, where, for the first time since the settlement of the Continent, the Indian race is presented in an independent, com- pact, and pro.sperous condition. But it would manifestly extend this article beyond its just limits, and we must therefore generalize our re- maining notices. We si ill, however, adhere to a geographical method. The Senccas from Sandusky, and the mixed Senecas and Shawnees, are situated oorthcafit of the Cherokees, and between the latter and the western INb.AN FOLIOY. 386 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 hfty to three hundred acres of corn. They have a blacksmith'^ shop, under treaty stipulations, and possess good ■tocks of horses, cattle, and hogs. The Quapaws adjoin the Senecas and Shawnees on the north, and, as the latter, have their kinds 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 predilec- tion 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, immedi- ately 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 Michi- gan. 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 condi- tion, and are surrounded by circumstances eminently favorable to it. The Shawnees are placed at the junction of the Konza with the Mis- souri, extending south and west. They number a little short of 1300, 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 im- perative, 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 theii eribs from year to year They own good saddle-horsea and saddles, and :! '1 35 386 INDIAN POLICY. 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 Dclawares, the descend- ants of the ancient Lenno Lenapees of Pennsylvania. Allies and kin- dred 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 aiul west so us to embrace it on the north. It contains about 12450 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 posi- tion, out of the State limits, where they are exclusively under the influ- ence 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. Thoy have, within a few years, received into their protection a small band (182) of the Monceys,and asmalier one, of 74, of the Stockbridges : the latter, we need hardly inform the intelligent reader, are descendants nf the ancient Moheguns, and the former of the Minsi and Minnisinks, who, at the era of the colonizaflon of " No-va Belgica" and New York, were respectively located on the east and the west banks of the Hudson. The Stockbridges arc civilized ; the Munsees less so, but industrious. Both are poor, and without funds. Immediately succeeding the Delawares are tne Kickapoos, an erratic race, who, under various name,^, in connection with the Foxes and Sacs, have, in good keeping with one of their many names,* skipped over half the continent, to the manifest discomfort of both German and American philologists and ethnographers, who, in searching for the so-called " Mas- cotins," have followed, so far as their results are concerned, an ignis fatuits. The Kickapoos have 12,000 square miles, or 768,000 acres, 't is a choice, rich tract, and they are disposed, with the example of the Delewares 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, fuom the wild indige- nes — we mean the Otoes, the Pawnees, the Omahaws, and the Sioux, who extend over vast tracts, and exist without any sensible improve- ment in tiieir condition. The same remark may be applied to the Kon- zas, who are, however, hemmed in between the Delawares and the * This is said, by one inteipretation, to mean Rabbit's Ghost INDIAN POLICY. 387 Shawnpcs, except on their western borders. It is no part ot our purpose to consider these tribes, us, over ond above the influence of contiguous examples, they constitute no part of the evidence affecting the general question of th(! jilau 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 tluiii, 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 comi)a- rative labor to cultivate, made up as it is of mixed forests and prairies. It is also, viewed in extensn, well watered, having those noble streams, the Red River, the Arkansas, the Konza, the Platte, and the Misiouri, with their tributaries, running through it. The range which it aflbrtls for cattle and stock, and the abundance of wild hay, of a nutritious qual- ity, has proved very favorable to an incipient agricultural population, an! greatly mitigated tlu; ordinary labors of f\irming in northern clim.Ue.-. There are no latitudes in North America more favorable to the gro\vt!i of corn. The cotton plant has been introduced by the Choctaws an I Ghickasaws, on the banks of Red river. It is a region abounding in sail springs and gypsum btvls, both which must hereafter be fully developed, and will prove highly advantageous. It is above the first or princi]);;! rapids of the great streams running down the plateau of the Rocky Moun- tains, and consecpiently afibrds sites for water-mills, which are scarce and almost unknown on the lower Arkans.vs. There is, indeed, a com- bination of circumstances, which are calculated to fiwor the General Government plan, and foster the Indians in a general attempt at civilis:)- tion and self-government. An 1 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, ami statrs of civilisation. Some of the tribes nre powerful, advanced, and wealthy; some feeble and poor. Education has very unequally afTectcd them. Laws are in their embryo state. The Gospel has been but partially introduced. In clothing the native councils with some of ihe powers "f a congresi, 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 enl.'M-ging the authority of the chiefs and sagamores into some- thino' 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 rr appreciate. The national character of the Indians is eminently suspicious. There is a fear to trust others, even themselves. Delegated power is narrowly 388 INDIAN POLICY. watched, ar.d often begrudged wlicn given. The act* of their public men are uniforntly impugned. The thought seems hardly to be enter- tained by the common IndianM, that an ofTicer 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 chii-fs, his neint from the Creeks, Chickasaws, Delawares, Shawnees, Pianka- shaws, VVeas, Osa<;es, Senecas, Stockbridges, Ottowas, Chippewas, Peorias, Pottowattomies, and Seminoles The result of these delibera- tions, 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 manu* &ctures. INPIAN POLICY. 39D 4. To provide against any cession uf their territory, in any furiu. A. To puni«h Crimea, committed by one tribe, in thu bounds of another. 6. To provide for a general •'itizenahip n'liong the contracting parties. 7. To ! ra. It may, however, lead to further deliberations ; and we cannot but re<;iird the movement as one which betokens political forethought and purpose. Our greatest apprehensions, we must confess, before clu;>ing 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 uru already scaled ; and we but apply the results of the past to the future, in saying that the path which has been trod hy a few, will be trod Ly 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 Con- gress for the removal and subsistence of ihe Choctaws now in IVIissis- sippi. 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, ii to be funded. This will eflcctually prevent all speculation, and enable the Indians to obtain and hold what is due them. Those now in the state are guarded againsi all coercive measures for their removal, and left free to go West or remain in their homes in Mississippi. — Southern Rvfonncr. ! I' NURSERY AND CRADLE SONGS OF THE FOREST. The tickenagun, or Indian cradle, is an object of great pride witii 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 ornament- ing it with beads and ribbons, worked in various figures. In the lodges of those who can aflTord 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 struc- ture is very light, and is carved with a knife by the men, out of the linden or maple tree. Moss coiistit'itcs 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 irade, 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 rescmblauco to the case of a small mummy. As the bow passes directly above the face and eyes, tiinlccts are often hung upon this, to amuse it, and the chill gets its first ideas of ornament from these. The hands are generally bound down witii the body, and only let out occasionally, the head ami neck being the only part which is actually free. So bound and laced, hooped and bowed, the little fabric, with its ininato, is cap:il)Ie of being swung on its nidtlier'.s l):icli, and carried through the thickest forest without injury. Should it even (iill no injury can happen. The bow protects the only exposed part of the fiaine. Anil when she stops to rest, or enters the lodge, it can be set asiile like any other lioiisrIiolJ article, or hung up by the cradle sinip on a [leg. Nothing, indeed, could be better adapted to the exigencies of the forest life. And in such tiny fabrics, so crainped anil bound, and liedecked and tiinketed, their famous Pontiacs and King Philips, and other prime warriors, were once carriril. notwitlist.iniling the skill they afterwards acquired in wield- ing the lance an 1 war club. The Indian child, in truth, takes its first lesson in the art of imdiirancc, in the cradlt\ WIumi it cries it need not be unbuund to nurse it. If the mother be youir-,-. 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 polis 390 CRADLE SONOS OF THE FOREST. 391 to be swung. If not, or the weather be fine, it is tied to the limb of n tree, with small cords made from the inner bark of the linden, and a vi- bratory motion given to it from head to foot by the mother or some attcn- tiant. Tile motion thus communicated, is that of the penduhmi or com- mon swing, and may L\3 supposed to be the easiest and most agreeable possible to the child. It is from this motion that the leading idea of tlie cradle song is taken. I havo often seen the red mother, or perhaps a sister of the child, lei- surely 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 spc cimens 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 plea- sant 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 des- cribed 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 callec tegoo, or if it be crowned with foam, beta. In introducing the suijoincd specimens of these simple see saws of the lodge and foresi chaunts, the writer felt, that they wire almost too fiail of structure to be ti usted, without a gentle hand, amidst his rougher mateii;ils. He is permitted to say, in regard tnlhem, that they have heen exiiiliitcd to Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes Smith, herself a refined enthusiast of the uoo.ls, and that the versions from the original given, are from her chaste and truthful pen. In the ibllowing anch little song, the reader has only to imagine a play- ful 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 si'igs, imitating its own piping tones. Ah wa nain ? Ah wa nain? Wa yau was sa — Ko pwasod. (Whiisthis?) (Who is this?) (Ciiving light — meaning the light of the eye) (On die top of my lodge.) Who is this? who is this? eye-light bringing To the roof of the lodge ? 392 CRADLE SONGS OF TIIF. FOREST. 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 I 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 ej-i -liijtit bringing To the roof of my lodge >. It is I, it is I, hither swing! no;, Dodge, dodge, baby dodgo. Here is another, slower and monotonuas, but indicating the utmoflt nviternal content : Swinging, swinging, lul la by. Sleep, liuie 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, Biiby, 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, hut be it remembered these chaunts are nlvvnys so in the most refiiud life. 'I'he idens are the same, that of tenderness and protective cure only, the ideiis being few, the Ian- gunge is in nccordance. To my mind it l);is l)een a matter of e.xtreme interest to observe how almost identical .are the expressions of aflt'Clion in all states of society, as thoiisrh lliise primitive elements admit of no pro- gress, but are perfect m themselves. The e-\vc-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. CRADLE SONGS OF THE FOREST. 393 iswera— 1) .1) This is I the utmoflt 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 mothtr 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, suhwern, (Your mother is caring for you.) Nebaun — nebaun — neJaunis-ais, (Sieep, sleep, my little daughter.) Wa wa — wa wa — wa we yea, (Swinging, &c. lullaby.) Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun, (Sleep I sleep I sleep.*) ered those the same, \v, the Ian- if extreme fitction in of no pro- an woman bo seen to 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 Hiding Hood, in which the reciter imitatos the tones of the wolf, and the little nur- sery 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 al- ternately the Hare, and its enemy, the Lynx. There was once, she says, a little Hare living in the lodge with its gr.nnd- mother, 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, • These translations are entirely literal — tlie verbs to " sleep" and to " fear," requir- ing the imperative mood, second [htsoii, present tense, tlirongiiout. In rendering the term " wa-wa" ill the participial fonn some doubt may exi."*!, but this has been terminated by the idea of the cxinlinp niolion, which i.s clearly implied, ullhongh the word is not marked by the usual form of (he participle iii ins. Tl'e pliriisc lul-la-by, is the only one in our laniruage, which conveys the evident meanin.n; of the choral lenn e-vve-yea. The sub- •tantive verb \s wantiii};, hi the first rne of b. and the third of c. in the two forms o' the verb, to care, or take care of a person ; but it is presr.nt In the phrase "kediausee" in the second line of e. These fads are slaled, not thai they are of the slijrhtest inte- rest to the commnn n^ader, but that they may be e.\uiii''icd by philologists, or perMM curious in the Indian (rrauimar. J \\ I! 394 CRADLE SONGS OF THE FOREST. Where pretty white one ? Where little white one, Where do you go ? Tshwee! tshwee! tshweel tshweel 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. "Hoi 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 be- gan to sing. To the point of land I roam. For tlMsre 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 ? Tshweel tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! cried the Hare, and she ran back to her grarulmother, 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 tiie poor little Fiare, and she ran back again to the lodge to ask again. "Ho! Nosis!" s:iii| the grand- mother, who was old and tired, "do not mind hitn, 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 nil about the little H:ire, and knew she was going across to the nook of land : and he had nothing to do but reach it first, and waylay her ; which ho 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. CRADLE SONGS OF THE FOREST. 395 The original chant, omitting the narrative part as given above, runs in (his fashion, word for word. Lynx. Tah kau Tah hau Wa bose Wa boss Ke te e zha Hare. Na kwa oushing Ain dah nuk e aurn baun In de e zha Lyn.x. Au neen Au neen A nau be kaus o yun aig Kish ke mun ing Ish tow ug a una, Hare. Nish ish sha ug sha wun e nong Ke e zha waud Ninofce aizh e qjoob un eegr Lynx. Tah kau Tah kau Wa hose Wa bose Ke de e zha Aocming to delight in frownrs or oflcring to word it with their lords, not presuming to procluime their female superiority to the usurping of the least title of their husbands charter, but rest themselves content un- der their helplesse condition, counting it the womans portion : since the English arrivull comparison hath made them miserable, for seeing the Kind usage of the English to their wives, they doe us much condemns their husbands for unkindnessc, and comn)cnd the English for their love. Aa 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 fongregatm •, in Sex I meane, they do aomewhat ease their miserie by complaining and scldome part without a releefe: If her husband come to scekc for his Squaw anA. beginne to blus- ter, the English woman betakes her to her armes which are the war- like Ladle, and the scalding liquors, threatening blistering to the naked runninvny, who is soon expelled by such liquid comminationa. In a word to conclude this womans historic, their love to the English hath deserved no snmll esteemc, ever presenting them some thing that is either rare or desired, as Strawberries, Hurllebcrries, Rasberries, Gooseberries, Cher- ries, Pluinmes, Fish, and other such gif^s as their poore treasury yeelda them. But now it may be, that this relation of the churlish and inhu- mane 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 sub- jection, as to sit on the lower hand, and to carrie water and the like drudgorie: 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 findo there as much love, respect, and e.ise, as h(!re in old Eni^hfid. I will not deny, but that some poore peo|)Ie may carrie their owne water, and doe not the poorer sort in Eng- land doe the same; witnesse your Lo»/^/ott Tankard-bearers, and your countrio-cottagers ? But this may well be knowne to be nothinjj, but the Tancorous venomc of some that bcare no good will to the plantation. For what neede they carrie water, seei;i:,' every one hath a Spring at his doorc, or the Sea by his house .' Thus much for the satisfaction of 'Women, touching this entrenchment upon their prerogative, as also con cerning the relation of these Indians Squawes. * Equals assembled with equals. 26 PAWNEE BARBARITY. That the tribea 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 Mis- sissippi and the AUeghenies, have long disappeared, may be readily con- ceived. 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 buflfalo, 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 ihsit moral propen- sities, 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 Febuary, 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 waf carefully concealed from her, for the space of some sixty or seventy dayf During all this time she was treated well, and had comfortable lodging i and food, the same as the rest enjoyed. On the 22nd of April, the chif fs held a general council, and when it broke up, it was announced that 1 er 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 dedu .ed, from the circumstances and ceremonies, the national hatred to their ene.ni«a 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 aay, 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 ond 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 ofiering, or sort of sacrificial 402 PAWNEE BARBARITY. 403 cbarity some wood and paint, then handed it to the next, who did likewiae, 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, m Jie centre of which a small fire was kindled, with the wood thus ceremo- niously contributed. Three bars had been tied across, horn 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 scafllbld 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 sup- posed 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 sprink ling. This horrible cruelty took place in the vicinity of Council Blufis. Oflfers 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 Iitdian youth, if they were not furnished with bows and arrows, would never learn to kill. The same time spent to teach them war and huntmg, if devoted to teach them letters, would make them readers and writers. Ed- ucation 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, 4U4 "the loon upon the lake." it THE LOON UPON THE LAKE." BY E. F. HOFFMAN. [From the Rhippewa.*J 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. * Nenemoshain nindenamdum Meengoweugish abowaugoda iUiewahwas inongoduga,&c.,&c TO A BmD, SEEN UNDER MY WINDOW IN THE OAEDEN. By the late Mrs. H. R. Schoolcraft, wlio was a grand daughter of the war chief Wabojueq. Sweet little bird, thy notes prolong, And ease my lonely pensive hours ; I love to list thy cheerful song, And hear thee cliirp beneath the flowers. The time allowed for pleasures sweet. To thee is short as it is bright, Then sing I rejoice! before it fleet, And cheer me ere you take ycur flight. I> ODJiBVVA SONG. wake.- ke. g- ■ The. following song, taken from the oral traclitions of tho north, is con nected with a histoiiciil iiiciJeiit, of note, in iht; Indian wars of Canada. [n IT.OO, great exertions were made liy the Fremih Indian department, under Gen. Montcalm, to biing a body of Indians into tiie valley of tho lower St. Lawrence, and invitations, for this purpose readied 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 tne mouth of the Utawas, while the warriors proceeded farther, was a Chip- pewa 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 duebec, 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 trans- lation, arc subjoined: EN. he war chief la indenaindum la 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 pledg3 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 — 1 shall go with you, my sweetheart — my Algonquin. 405 4CG ODJIBWA SONO. iirt; IV. Nial niti dc nnh d'j$h Wassalnviul gushuh Aindahnuk ke y'iiun Ke yau ninemooshai wee Odishqiiagumee. Alas! I replied — my native country is far, far away — my swecthci 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 lookmg after me, my sweetheart ; my Algonquin. VI. Apee nay we ne bow Unishe bun Aungwash agushing Ne ne mooshai we Odishquagumee. He was still standmg on a fallen tree — that had fallen into the water my sweetheart ; my Algonquin. VII. Nia I 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 ontbreak of hostilities, is a declaration of war. 407 NIAGARA, AN ALLEGORY. swcctheurt ; iU looking the water is when I result of i light, in of truth, ors on the An old grey man on ti mountain lived, He had diiuirhterB (bur find one, And a tall bright lodire of the beUila bark That jlittered in liie sun. He lived on the very hiorhest top, For he wiis a hunter free, Where he could spy on the clearest day, Gleams of the distant sea. Come out — come out I cried {he youngest one, Let us otl' to look at the sea, And out they ran in their payest robes, And sliipped and ran with glee. Come Su,* come Mi,t come Hu,J come Sa.§ Cried laughing lidle Er.|| Let us go to vondtT broad blue deep, Where the breakers foam and roar. And on they scampered by valley and wood, By earth and air and pky. Till they came to a steep where the bare rocks stood. In a precipice mountain high. Inyaliy cried Er, here's a dreadful leap, But we lire none so far, That if we flinch and return in fear, Nos,** he will cry ha ! ha I Now each was clad in a vesture light, That floated far behind, With sjiiidals of frozi'n water drops. And wings of painted wind. And down they iif liis propio ns hold lack', and do not join in tha dance — that is to say, cti'ist in the war. Wil go nain', o win 1 (Why do yo, warriors,) A bo vin ah, (Stand back ?) \V;1 wos is sc, wc ytin. (Vo who bi-ar the maik of the Awasccs.) The Awasco is u kind of lisli, which is the lotcm oi' a clun. / He dechires his full purpose to enter into the wur. No ma jo, yeh ' Ne nid jo, e yoh ! Ne nie kun ah, e yeh ! Gc ziiig neen wu tin, Hoh ! Nc monedo netaibnil- tinn win. (I go to the spot — iho war path I) ( llrjH-als. ) (My war path !) (My sky is i'air and clear.) The com- mon phrase to denote good fortune. (Let others lin^-cr. Onward I my God! — my right!) In presenting these specimens of the original words of some of our western warriors, we are permitted to give the aimexed versions of them from the pen of one of our most gifted writers. WAR-SONG—" Pe-na' se-wug." (From the Algonquin of Schoolurafi.) 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. u. Oh God of my Fathers, as swiftly as they, I a^k 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 I TBADITIONARY WAR BONOS. Ill t not join in the III. On the forihead of Earth strikes tho Sun in his might, Oh gift ine with ^rlunccs us searching ns light. In the front of the onslaught, to single each crest, Till my haichet grows red on their bravest and best. IV. Why stand ye back idly, ye Sons of the Lakes t Who boast .of the scalp-locks, ye tremble to take. Fear-dreamers nuiy linger, 7)1)/ skies are all bright — Charge — charge — on the VVar-Path, FOR (jiuD AND THE HlUIIT. Take the following additional example, of a death song. These stan- zas have all been actually sung on warlike occasions, and repeated in my hearing. They have been gleaned from the traditionary song.s of the Chippewas of the north, whose villages extend through the region of lake Superior, and to the utmost source of the Mississippi. Those bands are the hereditary foes of their western neighbours, the Daciitnlis or Siou.x, who arc generally called by them, by way of distinction, Na do w&' sees, that is to say, ouii 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 Ipng wounded on the field of battle. A' be tub ge' ziiig, (Under the centre of the sky,) Ne bii baiin wii wa. (I utter my bairn wii wa. Baimwiiwii. is the sound of passing thunders, which will convey a just idea of the violence of this figure. 2. His thoughts revert to tho star of his destiny. Ain dah' so gezhig (Every day, thou star I) Ke ga gun o wa bom in. (I gaze at you.) It is tho morning star that is here alluded to. 414 TRAOITI0NAR7 WAR BONOS. 8. He lees the birds of carnngo hovering over the field. A' be tuh geizh ig (Thu hnlf of the day) Ai be yiuin (I ubido — gazing) Pe nii se wug (Ye warlike birda.) 4. He keeps the flight of these birds before his mind and hears their thrill cries, Pe mask wosh e wug Pe nft' se wug A' be tuh geezh ig oag. (They fly round the circuit of the «ky.) (The birds— circling) (Round hnlf the circuit of the sky.) The meaning is, approaching him m circle more nearly, as life becomes fiiinter in him. b. This figure is continued. He lies bleeding. A' zha waush e wug (They cross the enemy^ line) Pe nft se wug. (The birds.) 6. He feels that he is called to another world. A pit she Mon e doag Ne mud wa wft Wd we ne goog. (The high gods) (My praise) (They sound.) 7. He is content and willing to go. K& gait', ne min wain' dum Ne bun ai kum ig Tabe h& be wish e naun. (Full happy— I) (To lie on the battle-field) (Over the enemy's line.) DEATH-SONG—" A' be tuh g6 zhig." (From the Algoiujuin of Sclioolcraft.) 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-tod^d I n. Star — Morning-Star, whose ray Still with the dawn I see, TRADITIONARY WAR SONOB. 41& (1 hears their sf the sky.) 10 sky.) The him in circle ncs iiiuiter in i line) field) ne.) Quenchless through half the day Ooxing thou sccst mo — Yon birds of cnrna^ve, they Fright not my gaze frcm whee i Baim-wd-ted ! ni. Bird, in thine niry rings Over the focman's line, Why do thy flapping wings Nearer me thus incline? Blood of the Dauntless brings* Courage, oh Bird to thine I Baim-ud-icd ! Hark to those Spirit-notes ! Ye high Heroes divine, Hymned from your god-like throats rhiit Sotig of Praise is mine ! Mine, whose grave-pennon floatflf Over the foeman's line I Baim-ivdrtcd I l.jpi.",''"" "■ 416 WAR-80NO. WAR SONO. Where are my foes? say, warriors, where? No forest is so black, That it c.in hide froin my quick eye, the vestige of tiieir 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 mo 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 tKe maze, and had me to llie fight. In sacred dreams withi.i my lodge, while resting on tt)e 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 grountL 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 oc«an, 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 m the fvay, All nature fills n y heart with fires, that prompt mo on to go, 7'o rush with ra:;e. and lifted spear, upon my country's foe. #- APPENDIX. NAKRATIVE OF THB OAPTIVITV OP ALEXANDER HENRY, Esq, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. When I reached Micliilimackinac I found several other traders, who had arrived before me, from different parts of the country, and who, in general, dechired the disposition of tlie Indians to be hostile to the English, and even apprehended some attack. M. Laurent Du- charme distinctly informed Major Etherington that a plan was absolutely conceived for destroying him, his garrison, and all the English in the upper country; but the commandant believing this and other reports to be without foundation, proceeding only from idle or ill-disposed persons, and of a tendency to do mischief, expressed much displeasure against M. Ducharme, and threatened to send the next person who should bring a story of the same kind, a prisoner to Detroit. The garrison, at this time, consisted of ninety privates, two subal- terns and the commandant; and the English merchants at the fort were four in number. Thns strong, tew entertained anxiety concern- ing the Indians, who had no weapons but small arms. Meanwhile, the Indians, from every quarter, were daily assembling, in unusual numbers, but with every appearance of friendship, fre- . quenting the fort, and disposing of their peltries, in such a manner as to dissipate almost every one's fears. For myself, on one occasion, I took the liberty of observing to Major Etherington that, in my judgment, no confidence ought to be placed in theui, and that I was ia- formed no less than four hundred lay around the fort 27 i i^. ii 418 ALSXASDZK BESKi'a OAFTIVITT. In return the major only rallied me on my timidity; and it is to be confessed that if this officer neglected admonition on his part, so did I on mine. Shortly after my first arrival at Michilimackinac, in the preceding year, a Chippeway, named Wawatam, began to come often to my liouse, betraying in his demeanor strong marks of personal regard. After this had continued some time, he came, on a ccrUun day, bringing with hira his whole family, and, at the same time, a large present, consisting of skins, sugar, and dried meat Having laid these in a heap, he commenced a speech, in wliich he informed me that some years before he had observed a fast, devoting himself, according to the custom of his nation, to solitude, and to the mortification of his body, in the hope to obtain, from the Great Spirit, protection through all his days; that on this occasion he had dreamed of adopting an Englishman as his son, brother and friend; that, from the moment in which he first beheld me, he had recognized me as the person whom the Great Spirit had been pleased to point out to him for a brother; that he hoped that I would not refuse liis present; and that he should forever regard me as one of his family. I could not do otherwise than accept the present, and declare ray willingness to liavc so good a man as this appeared to be for my friend and brother. I offered a present in return for that wliich I had received, which Wawatam accepted, and then, thanking me for the favor which he said that I had rendered him, he left me, and soon after set out on his winter's hunt Twelve months had now elapsed since the occurrence of this in- cident, and I had almost forgotten the person of my brother, when on the second day of June, Wawatam came again to my house, in a temper of mind visibly melancholy and thoughtful. He told me that he had just returned from his wintering ground, and I asked after his health; but without answering my question, he went on to say, that he was sorry to find me returned from the Sault ; that he intended to go to that place himself, immediately after his arrival at Micliili- mackinac; and tl"it he wished me to go there along with him and liis family the next morning. To all this he joined an inquiry, whether or not the commandant had heard bad news, adding that during the winter he had himself been frequently disturbed with the noise of evil birds; and further suggesting that there were nu- merous Indians near the fort, many of whom had never shown themselves within it Wawatam was about forty-five i ^ars of age, of •B excellent character among his nation, and a chie£ iteferriDg much of what be heard to the peculiarities of the Indian ALEXANDER BENRT'S CAPTIVITT. 410 ind it is to liis part, so aackinac, in in to come of personal n a certain Ame, a large g laid these led me that If, according ication of his tion through adopting an ; moment in on whom the arother; that it he should I declare my } be for my that which I king me for left me, and ) of this in- kier, when on r house, in a told me that ; asked after it on to say, t he intended al at Michili- rith him and an inquiiy, adding that •bed with the ire were nu- never shown irs of age, of of the Indian character, I did not pay all the attention which they will be found to have deserved to the entreaties and remarks of my visitor. I answered that I could not think of going to the Sault so soon as the next morning, but would follow him there after the arrival of my clerks. Finding himself unable to prevail with me, he withdrew for that day; but early the next morning ho came again, bringing Avith him his wife, and a present of dried meat. At this interview, after stating that he had setferal packs of beaver, fur which he intended to deal with ine, he expressed a second time liis apprehensions, from the numerous In- dians who were around the fort, and earnestly pressed me to consent to an immediate departure for the Sault. As a reason for this parti- cular request, he assured me tliat all the Indians proposed to come in a body, that day, to the fort, to demand liquor of the command- ant, and that he wished me to be gone before they should grow intoxicated. I had made, at the period to which I am now referring, so much ^ro^ress in the language in which Wawatam addressed me, as to^e ( hold an ordinary conversation in it; but the Indian manner of ..ech is so extravagantly figurative that it is only for a perfect master to follow and comprehend it entirely. Had I been further advanced in this respect, I think that I should have gathered so much information, from this my friendly monitor, iis would have put me into possession of tlie design of the enemy, and enable me to save, as well others, as myself ; as it was, it unfortunately happened that I turned a deaf ear to every thing, leaving Wawatam and his wife, after long and patient, but ineffectual eftbrts, to depart alone, with dejected coun- tenances, and not before they liad each let fall some tears. In the course of the same day, I observed that the Indians came in great r.umbers into the fort, purchasing tomahawks, (small axes of one pound weight,) and frequently desiring to see silver arm-bands, and other valuable ornaments, of which I had a large quantity for sale. The ornament'!, however, they in no instance purchjised, but, after turning them over, left them, saying that they would call again the next day. Their motive, as it afterward appeared, was no other than the very artful one of discovering, by requesting to see them, the particular places of their dtiposit, so that lliey might lay tlieir hands on them in the moment of pillage with the greater cerUiinty and dispatch. At night, I turned in my mind the vi.sits of Wawatam ; but, though they were calculated to excite uneasiness, nothing induced me to believe that serious mischief was at hand. The next day, being the fourth of June, was the king's birth-day. »l »■; s III I n 420 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. The morning was sultry. A Chippeway came to tell me that his nation wiis going to play at laggatiwag, witli the Sacs or Saakies, another Indian nation, lor a high wager. He invited me to witness tlie sport, adding that the commai.uant was to be there, and would bet on the gide of the Cliippeways. In consequence of this information, I went to the commandant, and expostulated with liim a little, representing that the Indians might possibly liave some sinister end in view; but the commandant only smiled at my suspicions. Baggatiway, called by the Canadians le jcn de la crosse, is played with a bat and ball. Tlu; bat is about four feet in length, curved, and terminating in a sort of racket. Two posts are planted in the ground, at a considerable distance from each other, as a mile or more. Each party has its post, and the game consists in throwing the ball up to the post of the adversary. The ball at the beginning is placed in the middle of the course, and each party endea\ors as well to throw the ball out of the direction of its own post, as into that of the adver- sary's. I did not go myself to see the match which was now to be played without the fort, because, there being a canoe prepared to depart, on the following day for Montreal, I employed myself in writing Icttere to my friends; and even when a fellow-trader, Mr. Tracj% happened to call upon me, saying that another canoe had just arrived from Detroit, and proposing that I should go with him to the beach, to inquire the news, it so happened that I still remained, to finish my letters; promising to follow Mr. Tracy in the course of a few minutes. Mr. Tracy had not gone more than twenty paces from the door, when I heard an Indian wai-cvy, and a noise of general confusion. Going instantly to my window, I saw a crowd of Indians within the fort, furiously cutting down and scalping every Englisliman they found. In particular, I witnessed the fate of Lieutenant Jemutte. I had in tlie room in which I was a fowling piece, loaded Avith swan- shot This I iininediatcly seized, and held it for a fiw mimit(vs, waiting to hear t!i.' drum beat to arms. In this dreadful interval I saw several of my countrymen fall, and more than one slinig;4ling between the knees of nn Indian, who, holding him in this manner, scalped him while yet li\i:ig. At length, disappointed in the hope of seeing resistance made to the enemy, ;'nd st'iisible of course that no effort of my own u; i-^i'sted arm could avail against four hundred Indians, I thought only of seeking shelter. Anu l the slaughter which was raging, I obscrviid many of the Canadian inhabitants of the fort calmly looking on, neither opposing me that his ikies, another ss the sport, I bet on the )n, I went to 3senting' that ;w; but the se, is played , curved, and the ground, more. Each )all up to the ilaced in the to throw the )f the udvcr- to be played to dipart, on ivritino' lettere cy, liappened arrived from he beach, to to finish my few minutes. le door, when sion. ins within the n tluiy found. (! with swan- initcs, wailing tcrval I saw ling between , scalped him lice made to wn w I'^^'sted Illy of seeking i-ved many of ither opposing AlBXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 421 the Indians nor suflforing injury ; and from this circumstance I conceived a hope of finding security in their houses. Between the yard door of my own house and that of M. Ijanglade, my iK^xt neighbor, tlierc was only a low fence, over tvhich I easily climbed. At my entrance I found the whule family at the v.indows, gazing at the scene of blood before them. I addressed my.self immedi ately to M Ijanglade, begoing that he would put me into some jilace of s.ifrty, until the heat of the atliiir should be over; an act of charity by which he might perhaps preserve me from the general massacre ; but while I uttered my petition, M. Langlade, vho had looked for a moment at me, turned again to the window, shrugging his shoulders, and intimating that he could do nothing for me: " Que voudriez-vous que yen feraia ? " This was a moment for despair; but the next, a Pani woman,** a slave of M. Langlade's, beckoned to me to follow her. She brought me to a door, which she opened, desiring me to enter, and telling mc that it led to the garret, Aviiere I must go and conceal myselt'. I joyfully obeyed her directions; and she, having followed me up to the garret- door, locked it after me, and with great presence of mind took away the key. This shelter obtained, if shelter I could hope to find it, I was natu- rally anxious to know what might still be passing without. Through an aperture, which afforded me a view of the area of the fort, I beheld, in shapes the foulest and most terrible, the ferocious triumphs of barbarian conquerors. The di-ad were scalped and mangled; the dyir.g were writhing and shrieking under the unsatiated knife and tomahawk; and from the bodies of some, rijiped open, their butchers were drinking the blood, sccjopcd up in the hollow of joined hands, and quailed amid shouts of rage and \ictory. I was shaken not only with horror, but with fear. The suiferings which I witnessed, I seemed on the point of experiencing. No long time elapsed before, every one being destroyed who could be found, there was a general cry of " All is finished!" At the same instant I heard some of the Lidians enter the house in which I was. The garret was separated from the room below only by a layer of single boards, at once the Hooring of the one and the ceiling of the other. I could therefore hear every thing ihat passed ; and the Indians no sooner came in than they inquired whether or not any Englislimen were in the house. M. Langlade replied that " he could not say ; he did ' Tlic Pauies are an Indian nation of the South. 422 ▲LBXANOER HENRT'S OAPTIVITT. not know of any ;" answers in which lie did not exceed the truth ; for the Pani woman had not only hidden me by stealth, but kept my secret and her own. M. Langlade was therefore, as I presume, as far from a wish to destroy me as he was careless about saving me, when he addisd to these answers, that " they might examine for themselves, and would soon be satisfied as to the object of their queslio ;." Saying this, lie brought them to the t.arret-d(Mji\ The state of my mind will be imagined. Arrived at the door, some delay was oec.isioned by the absence of the key, and a few mo- ments were thus allowed me in which to look around for a hiding place. In one corner of the garret was a heap of those vessels of birch bark, used in maple sugar making, as I have recently des- cribed. The door was unlocked and opened, and the Indians ascending the sUiirs, before I had completely crept into a small opening which pre- sented itself at one end of the heap. An instant after, four Indians entered the room, all armed with tomahawks, and all besmeared with blood upon every part of their bodies. The die appeared to b(! cast. I could scarcely breathe ; but I thought the throbbing of my heart occasioned a noii-e loud enough to betray me. The Indians walked in every direction about the garret, and one of them approa(,'hi;d me so closely that at a particular mo- ment, had he put forth his hand, he must have tuucliod me. Still I remained undiscovered ; a circumstance to which the dark color of my clothes, and the want of light in the room, which had no window, and in the corner in which I was, must have contributed. In a word, after tjiking several turns in the room, during which they told M. Langlade how many they had killed, and how many scalps they had taken, they returned down stiiirs, and I, with sensations not to be fxpresseil, heard the door, which was the barrier between me and ray fate, locked for the second time. There was a feather-bed on the floor ; and on this, exhausted Jis I wiis by the agitation of my mind, I threw myself d(nvn and fell asleep. In this state I remained li!I this dusk of the evening, when I was awakened by a second op(Miiii;^' of the dooi'. 1"he person that now entered was M. Lunglade'.s wife, who was much surprised at find- ing me, but 'ulvised me not to be uneasy, obser\ing that the ludiajis had killed most of the Eiij^lish, but that she hoped I inigliL myself escape. A shower of niiii having begun to fall, she had come to stop a hole in the roof. On her going awny, I begged her to send me a little water to drink ; which, she did. ALKUNDBR HSRBT'S 0A7TIVITT. 43S ,he truth; for ipt my secret IS fur from a lien he addod 3s, aiul would lying this, lie at the door, J a few nio- for a hiding e vessels of recently des- scending the g which pre- foiir Indians smeared with ithe ; but I id enough to t the giirret, articular mo- me. Still I : color of my no window, In a word, hoy told M. Ips they had IS not to be k'een me and exhausted as own and fell ining, when I person that rised at fmd- t the Indians night myself come to stop to send me As night was now advancing, I continued to lie on the bed, rmni- nating on my condition, but unable to discover a resource from which I could hope for life. A flight to Detroit had no probable chance of success. The distance from Michilimackinac was foiu" hundred miles ; I was without provisions ; and the whole length of the road lav through Indian countries, countries of an enemy in arms, where the flrst man whom I should meet would kill me. To stay where I was threatened nearly the issue. As before, fatigue of mind, and not tranquility, s 'ndetl cares, and procured lue ! rtlier sleep. The game of baggatiway, as from the description above, will have been perceived, is neci;ssarily attended with much violence and noise. In the ardor of contest, the ball, as has been suggested, if it cannot be thrown to the goal desired, is struck in any direction by which it can be diverted from that designed by the adversary. At such a moment, therefore, nothing could be less liable to excit« premature alarm, than that the ball should be tossed over the pickets of the P'ort, nor that, having fallen there, it should be followed on the instant by all engaged in the game, as well the one party as the oth(!r, all eager, all struggling, all shouting, all in the unrestrained pursuit of a rude athletic exercise. Notliing could be less fitted to excite prema- ture alai-m ; nothing, therefore, could be more happily devised, under the circumstances, than a stratagem like this ; and this was, in fact, the stratagem which the Indians had employed, by which they had obtiiined possession of the Fort, and by which they had been enabled to slaughter and subdue its garrison, and such of its other inha- bitants as they pleased. To be still more certain of success, they had prevailed upon as many as they could, by a pretext tlie least liable to suspicion, to come voluntarily without the pickets ; and par- ticularly the commandant and garrison themselves. The respite which sleep afforded me, during the night, was put an end to by the return of morning. I was again on the rack of appre- hension. At sunrise, I heard the family stirring; and presently after Indi.m voices, informing M. Langlade that they had not found my hapless self among the dead, and they supposed me to be some- where concealed. M. Langlade appeared, from what followed, to be by this time acquainted with the place of my r(>treat, of which, no doubt, he had been informed by his wife. The poor woman, as soon as the Indians mentioned me, declared to her husband, in the P'rench tongue, that he should no longer keep me in his house, but deliver me up to my pursuers; giving as a reason for this jacasure, that should the Indians discover his instrumentality in my A-J )v ,H 'n i 424 ▲LZZANDER H^NRY S CAFTIVITT. concealment, tlioy might revenge it on her cliildrcn, and that it was better that I should die than tluy. M. Liinylado resisted at first this sentence of his wife's, but soon suffered her to prevail, infurmiiig the Indians that he had been told I was in h' house, that I had lome (hero without hi.s knowlec •>, niid that he would put mo iiito their hands ' This was no sooner e.\j)ressed than he bu^an to ascend the stairs, the Indians following' upon his heels. I now resigned myself to the fate with which I was menaced ; and regarding every attempt at concealment ius vain, I arose fn^m tho bed, and presented myhelf full in view to the Indians who were enter- ing the rooia They were all in u state of intoxication, and entirely naked, except about the middle. One of them, named Wenniway, whom I had previously known, and who wiis upward of six feet in height, had his entire face and body covered with charcoal and grease, only that a white .«pi t, of two inches in diameter, encircled either eye. This man walked uji tu me, seized me with one hand by the colliir of tlie coat, while in the other he luild a large car\iiig knife, as if to plunge it i;i my breast ; his eyes meanwhile were ILved steadfastly on mine. At length, after some seconds of the most anxious suspense, he dropped his arm, saying, " 1 won't kill you !" To this he added, that he had frequently en; ged' in wars against ihy, KngUsli, and had brought away many seal] that on a certain oeeasiim he had lost a brother, whose name was Muioigon, and that I slionKl be called after him, A rejjrieve upDU any terms placed me among the living, and gave me back the sustaining voice of hope ; but Wenniway ordered me down stairs, and there informed me that I was to be taken to his cabin, where, and indeed every where else, thi! Indians were all mad with lijuor, death agiiin was threatened, and not as possible only, but as certiun. I mentioned my ferns on this subject tt M. Langlade, begging him to represent the danger to my master. M. Langlade, in this ni^lanee, did not withhold his ci)mpassion, and Wei.niway immedi- ately consented that I should remain where I was, unti! he found another opportuiity to take me away. Thus far secure, I reascended my garret stairs, in ■miei to pliice myself the furthest poshible out of the reach of insult iioni tliunken Indians; but I had not remained there nmre than an limif, when I was calljd to the room below, in whieli v.as an Indian, wIid said that I must go with him out of the Fort, ^Venniway having sent him to fetch me. Tiiis man, as well as Wenniway himself, I had seen before. In the preceding year, 1 had allowed him to take goods on credit, f(»r which he was still in my debt ; and some short time previous to that it was sti'd at first lil, infurining tliiit I had lid put mo 110 ])f^'iia to 3 nii'iiiiced ; ose from tlie were entcr- and cnUi'L'ly 1 Wenniwiiy, of six feet ia il and grease, ■d either eye, hy the coUiir kuifi', as if to steadfastly on Diis su.-peiise, his he added, ^■!ish, and had le liad lost a tiled after him. in^', and gave ordered me taken to his ivere all mad ihle only, but yl. Langlade, Langlade, in invay immedi- 11 ti! he found niei to pliice iroiii (l;unk(.'n liDUr, wlien I uliD sail! that sent him to 1 seen before. )ds on credit, previous to ▲LBXJLKDER BEiniY'S CAPTITITr. 426 llie Bnrpriso of the Fort, he had said, upon my upbraiding him with want of honesty, that "ho Avould pay me before long!" Tliis speech now came frrsh into my raomory, and led me to suspect that the fellow had formed a design against niy life. I communicated the suspicion to M. Langlade ; but ho gave for answer that " I wtus not now my own master, and must do as I was ordered." The Indian, on his part, directed that before I loft the hous-s I should undress myself, declaring that my coat and shirt would become him belter thmi they did me. His ph-asure in this respect being comi)lied with, no other alternative was left me than either to go out naked, or put on the clothes of the Indian, which he freely gave me in exchange. His m(jtive for thus stripping me of my own apparel was no other, ua I afterwards learniid, than this, that it might not bo stained with blood when he should kill me. I wiis now told to proceed; and my driver followed me close, until I had passed the gate of the Fort, when I turned toward the spot whore I knew the Indians to be encamped. This, h(jwevor, did not suit the purpose of my enemy, who seized me by the arm, and drew me violently in the ojiposite direction, to the distance of fifty yards above the Fort Here, finding that I was approaching the bushes and sand hills, I determined to proceed no further, but told the Indian that I believed ho meant to murder me, and if so he might as well strike where I was as at any greater distance. He replied Avith c(jclness, that my suspicions were just, and that he meant to pay mo in this manner for my goods. At the same time he produced a knife, and held me in a position to receive the intended blow. Both this and that which followed were necessarily the affair of a moment. I5y some effort, too sudden and too little dependent on thought to be explained or remembered, I w;is enabled to arrest his arm, and give him a sud- den push, by which I turned him from me, and released mys(^lf from his o-rasp. This was no sooner done than I ran toward the F(jrt, with all the swiftness in my power, the Indian following me, and I expecting every moment to feel his knife. I succeeded in my flight; and, on entering the Fort, I saw Wenniway standing in the midst of the area, and to him I hastened for protection. Wenniway desired the Indian to desist ; but the latter pursued me round him, making several strokes at me with his knife, and foaming at the mouth with rago at the repeated failure of his purpose. At length Wenniway drew near to M. Langlade's house ; and the door being open, I nm into it. The Indian followed me ; but on my entering the house, he voluntarily abandoned the pm'suit 'K'f< 4M AUtXANDSR niNRT'S OAFTTnTT. Preserved so often, and so uncxpcctcdl v, as it had now been my lot to be, I returned to my garret, with a strong iiielinatiitn to believe tl)at, through tho will of an overruling power, no Indian enemy could do mo hurt; but new trials, as I believed, were at hand, when, at ten o'eloek in tho evening, I was roused from sleep, and once more desired to d^^seelul the stairs. Not less, however, to my uulisfaction than surprise, I Wiis summoned only to meet Major Etherington, Mr. Bostwick, and Lieu- tenant Lesslie, who were in tho room below. These gentlemen had been taken prisoners, while Kwking at the game, without the Fort, and immediately stripped of all thiar clothes. They were now sent into tho fori, under the charge of Canadians, because, the Indians having resolved on getting drunk, the cliiefs were apprehensive that they would be murdered if they continued in the camp. Lieutenant Jemette and seventy soldiers had been killed ; and but twenty English- men, including soldiers, were still alive. These were all within the fort, together with nearly tiiree hundred Canadians belonging to the canoes, tfec. Thtse being our numbers, myself and others proposed to Maj. Pilther- ington to make an effort for regaining possesion of the fort, and maintain- ing it against tho Indians. The Jesuit missionary wit.s consultcid on the project ; but he discouraged us, by his representations, not only of tho merciless treatment which we must expect from the Indians, should tlu.y regain their superioiity, Init of the little di>pendence which was to bo placed upon our Canadian auxiliaries. Thus the fort ami prisoners remained in the hands of the Indians, though, through the whole night, the prisoners and whites were in actuiU possession, and they were with- out the gates. That Avliole night, or the greater part of it, was passed in mutual condolence ; and my fellow-prisoners shared ray garret. In tha morn- ing, being agjiin called down, I found my master, Wenniway, and was desired to follow him. He led me to a small house, within the fort, where, in a narrow room, and almost dark, I found Mr. Ezekiel Solo- mons, an Englishman from Detroit, and a soldier, all prisonc^rs. With th(!se, I remained in painful suspense, as to the scene tiiiit was next to present itself, till ten o'clock in tho forenoon, when an Indian ar- rived, and presently marched us to the lake side, where a canoe appeared ready for departure, and in which we found that we were to embark. Our voyage, full of doubt as it was, would have commenced imme- diately, but that one of the Indians, who was to be of the party, was absent, Ilis arrival Avas to be waited for ; and this occasioned n \(My long delay, during which we were exposed to a keen nortli-eiii4 ■«••«'! ALIXANOKR mtiniT'B CAPTIVITT. 427 I my lot to 'licvo tlint, uld do mo 1 o'clock in to dt'soi'iul riso, I was iind Lieu- t tht! game, les. Tlit'y leciiuse, the pprt'heiisivo Lieutenant ity English- lin the fort, ! canoes, itc. Maj. Kthor- id muintain- lt(^d on the only of tlie should thi^y was to be d prisoners hole ni;,fht, were with- in mutual the morn- ly, and was n tlie fort, zc.ldel Solo- lers. With t was next Indian ar- a canoo it we weru need imme- jiarty, was )ned !i. very i-eii*t M-'Jvl An old shirt wiis all thiit covered me ; I sufFercd much from the cold ; and in this extremity, M. Langlade coming down to the beach, I nsked him for a blanket, promising if I lived to pay him for it, at any price ho pleased ; but the answer I received was this, that ho could let mo have no blanket unless there were some one to bo secu- rity for the payment. For myself, he observed, 1 had no longer any prop- erty in that country. I had no more to .say to M. Langlade ; bu' presently seeing another Canadian, named John Cuchoise, I addressed to him a similar request, and was not refused. Naked as I was, and rigorous Jis was the weather, but for the blanket I must have perislied. At noon, our party was all collected, the prisoners all embarked, and we steered for the Isle du Castor, [Beaver Island, | in Lake Michigan. The soldier, who was our companion in misfurtime, was made fast to a bn- of the canoe, by a rope tied round his neck, as is the maimer of the Indians in transporting their prisoners. Ti»e rest were left uncoi.lined ; but a paddle was put into each of our hands, and we were made to uso it. The Indians in tho canou were seven in num- ber, the prisoners four. I had left, as it will bo recollected. Major Etherington, Lieutenant Lessiie and Mr. Bostwick, at M. Langlade's, and was now joined in miseiy with Mr Ezekiel Solomons, the soldier, and the Englishman who had newly arrived from Detroit This was on the sixth day of June. Tlu) Fort was taken on the fourth ; I surren- dered myself to Wenniway on the fifth ; and this was tlie third day of our distress. We were bound, as I have said, for the Isles du Csistor, which lie in the mouth of Lake Michigan ; and we should have crossed tho lake, but that a thick fog came on, on account of wliicii the Indians deemed it .safer to keep the shore close under their lee. We there- fore approached the lands^ of the Ottawas, and their village of L'Arbre Croche, already mentioned as lying about twenty miles to the westward of Michilimackinac, on the opposite side of tho tongue of land on which the Fort is built. livery half hour, the Indians gave their warwhoop, ane for every prisoner in their canoe. This is a geniiral custom, by the aid of which, all otlujr Indians, within hearing, arc apprised of the number of prisoners they are carrying. In this manner we reached Wagoshense, Fox-point, a long point, stretching; westward into the lake, and which the Ottawns make a carrying place, to avoid going round it. It is distant eighteen miles from Michilimackinac. After tho Indians had made their warwhoop, as before, an Ottawa appeared upon tho beach, who made signs that we it "i.'i 428 ALKXANDBR nKNRv's OAPTIVITr. I should land. In consc(Hi<'iicc, we iiji|irii:u'lic(l. Tho Ottiiwii isltcd thft iu!ws, and kcjit iho Clii|)i)c\v;iys in I'lutlicr cDiivcrsution, till we woro within a fow yards of tin- iatul, and in bhalhnv water. At this mo- nunt, a hnndrcd men ruxliud iijiun uh, from aniDiig tin' 1)us1ks, and draj;i;rd all the i/risnncrs nut nl" iIr! caiUM', amid a trnil} iii'^- sh(jut. Wo nuw b«lii'VtHl that our last suflfrings wrro approachin;,' ; hut no S(Xiner wtrc wo fairly on Hhore, and on our loys, tlian llu; chicfa of the party advanced, and j^avc each of us tlu-ir hands, t/ us. The (.'liippeways, as Hod ; but I passed a night sleepless and full of . retch- edness. My bed was the bare ground, and I was again reduced to an old siiirt, as my entire apparel ; the blanket which 1 had received, through the gencirosity of M. Cuchoise, having beitii taken 'Vom mo among tlu! Ouawiis, when they seized upon myself and tiie .th. i s, at VVagoshense. 1 was, besides, in want of food, having for .wo liays eaten nothinu;. I confess that in the canoe with the Chippeways I was offered bread; but, bread, with what accompaniment? They had a loaf, which they cut with tho same knives that they hiul employed in the massa- cre — knives still covered with blood. The blood they moistejied with spittle, and rubbing it on the bread, offered this for food to their pris- oners, telling them to cat tho blood of their countrymen. Such was my situation on the morning of the seventh of June, in tho year one thousand seven hundred and sixty-thrco ; but a few hours produced an event which gfive still a new color to my lot Toward noon, when the great war-chief, in ^nm! , my with Wonniway was seateil at the opposite end of the lodge, ray friond and brother, Wa- •watam, suddeidy came in. During the four days preceding, 1 had often wondered what had become of him. In p.v -ing by he gave me his hand but went immediately toward tho grea^ c'liof, by tho side of whom and Weniiiway, he sat himself down. The most uninterrupted silence pre- vaileil ; each smoked his pipe ; and this done, Wawatam arose, and left the loJge, saying to me, a;-- he passed, " Take courage ! " An hour elapse.d, during which several chiefs entered, and prepara- tions appeared to be milking for a council. At length, Wawatam ro-eriteiuJ tho lodge, followed by his wife, and both loaded mth 430 ALEXANDER HENRY'B OAPTIVITT. :!i merchandise, wliicli they carried up to the chiefs, and laid in a heap bcfcire them. Some moments of silence followed, at the end of which, Wawatimi pronoimccd a speech, every word of which, to me, was of extraordinary interest: "Friends and relations," he began, "what is it that I shall say? You know what I feel. You 'all have friends and brothers and chil- dren, whom ajs yourselves you love; and you, what would you expe» rionoe, did you, hke me, behold your dearest friend — your brother — in the condition of a slave ; a slave exposed every moment to insult, and to menaces of death ? This case, as you all know, is mine. See there, {^pointing to my»elf,) my friend and brother among slaves, liimself a slave ! " You all well know that long before the war began, I adopted him as my brother. From that moment he became one of my family, so that no change of circiunstances could break the cord wliich ftistened us together. " He is my brotlher; and, because I am your relation, he is therefore your relation, too : and how, being your relation, can he be your slave ? " On the day on which the war began, you were fearful, lest on this very account, I should reveal your secret You requested, there- fore, that I would leave the Fort, and even cross the lake. I did so, but did it with reluctance. I did it with reluctance, notwithstanding that you, Menehwehna, who had the command in this enterprise, gave me your promise that you would protect my friend, delivering him from all danger, and giving him safely to me. " The performance of tliis promise I now claim. I come not with empty hands to ask it You, Menehwehna, best know whether or not, as it respects yourself, you have kept your word; but I bring these goods, to buy off every claim which any man among you all may have on my brother, as his prisoner." Wawatam having ceased, the pipes were again filled ; and, after they were finished, a further period of silence followed. At the end if this, Menehwehna arose and gave his reply: " My relation and brother," said he, " what you have spoken is the truth. We were acquainted with the friendship which subsisted between yourself and the Englishman, in whose behalf you have now addressed us. We knew the danger of having our secret discovered, and the consequences which must follow ; and you say truly that we requested you to leave the Fort This we did out of regard for you and your iamily: for, if a discovery of our design had been made, you would ALEXANDER HENRT'S CAPTITITT. 481 have been blamed, wliether guilty or not; and you would thus have been involved in difficulties from which you could not have extri- cated yourself. " It is iUso true that I promised you to take care of your friend; and this promise I performed, by desiring my son, at the moment of assault, to seek him out, and bring him to my lodge. He went accordingly, but could not find him. The day after I sent him to Langlade's, when he was informed that your friend was safe ; and had it not been that the Indians were then drinking the rum which had been found in the Fort, he would have brought liim homo with him, according to my orders. " I am very glad to find that your friend hcis escaped. We ac- cept your present; and you may take him home with you." Wawatam thanked the a.ssembled chiefs, and taking me by the hand, led me to liis lodge, which was at the distance of a few yards only from the prison lodge. My entrance appeared to give joy to the whole family ; food was immediately prepared for me ; and I now ate the first hearty meal which I had made since my capture. I found myself one of the family; and but that I had still my fears, as to the other Indians, I felt iis happy as the situation could allow. In the course of the next morning, I wa.s alarmed by a noise in the prison lodge ; and looking through the openings oi, the lodge in 'vhich I was, I saw seven dead bodies of white men dragged forth Upon my inquiry into the occasion, I was informed that a certam chief, called by the Canadians Le Grand Sable, had not long before arrived from his winter's hunt ; and that he having been absent when the war begun, and being now desirous of manifesting to the Indians at large his hearty concurrence in what they had done, had gone into the prison lodge, and there, with his knife, put the seven men, whose bodies I had seen, to death. Shortly after, two of the Indians took one of the dead bodies, which they chose as being the fattest, cut off the head, and divided the whole mto five parts, one of which was put into each of five kettles, hung over as many fires kindled for this purpose, at the door of the prison lodge. Soon after things were so far prepared, a message came to our lodge, with an invitation to Wawatj^m to assist at the feast An invitation to a feast is given by him who is the master of it Small cuttings of cedar wood, of about four inches in length, supply the place of cards ; and the bearer by word of mouth states the particular! Wawatam obeyed the summons, taking with him, as usual, to the p!ace of entertainment, his dish and spoon. M, p 482 ALEXANDER HENBT'S CAPTIVITT. After an absence of about half an hour, he returned, bringing in his dish a human liand, and a large piece of flesh. He did not appear to relish tlie repast, but told me that it was then, and always liad been the custom among all the Indian nations, when returning from war, or on overcoming their enemies, to make a war-feast from among the slain. This he said inspired the warrior with courage in attack, and bred liim to meet death with fearlessness. In the evening of the same day, a large canoe, such as those which came from Montreal, was seen advancing to the fort It was full of men, and I distinguished several passengers. The Indian cry was made in the village; a general muster ordered ; and to the number of two hundred tlusy marched up to the fort, where the canoe was expected . to land. The canoe, suspecting nothing, came boldly to the fort, wliere the passengers, as being English traders, were seized, dragged through the water, beat, nn-iled, marched to the prison lodge, and there stripped of their clothes and contincd. Of the English traders that fell into the hands of the Indians at the cajiture of the Fort, Mr. Tracy was the only one who lost his life. Mr. Ezekiel Solomons and Mr. Henry liostwick were fciken by the Otta- was, and after the peace carried down to Montreal, and there ransomed. Of ninety troops, about seventy were killed ; the rest, togetlicr with those of the posts in the Bay des Puants, and at the river St. Joseph, were also kept in safety hy the Ottawas tUl the peace and then either freely restored, or ransonioc at Montreal. The Ottawas never overcame their disgust at the neglect with which they had been treated, in the be- ginning of the war, by those who afterwards desired their assistance as allies. In the morning of the ninth of June, a general council was held, at which it was agreed to remove to the island of Mieliilimackiniic, as a more defensible situation in the event of an attack by the English. The Indians had begun to entertain apprehensions of want of strength. No news ha reached them from the Poti; vataraies, in the Bay des Puants ; and they were uncertain whether or not the Monomins would join them. They even feared that the Sioux would take the English side. This resolution fixed, they prepared for a speedy retreat. At noon the camp was brokeo up, and we embarked, taking with us the pris- oners that were sdll undisposed of On our passage we encountered a gale of wind, and there were some appearances of danger. To averl it, a dojT, of whicli the legs were previously tied together, wfw thrown into the lake ; an offeiing designed to soothe the angry passions of some offended Manila ALEXANDKU IIENPY'S CAPTIVITV. 433 ring in his appear to had been jm war, or rr the slain. I bred him hose which vas full of f wiis made bcr of two 18 expected fort, where Tcd through ure stripped Indians at lost his life, by the Otta- re ransomed. cr with those oseph, were either fi'c-t'ly ercamii their , in the be- iir asisistanco W!vs held, ickinao, as a nglish. The trengtli. No des Piiants ; would join Jni-'ish side. t. At noon us the pris- encountered er. To averl , was thrown dons of some As wc Jipproachcd tli'i is^liiiid, two women in tlie canoo in wliich 1 was, bt'i^an I > uttor mel;mcliuly and Iiiiioous crios. Precarious as my condition still ri'maincd, I cxperienci'd sonns Kcns'itions of alarm from tlicst! di-!n;il sounds, be the case, or throui>'h their n'.isconduet, as ! bad reason to think, I ob- tained nothini4-; and notliinL;', or almost nothing, I now bei;an to think vould be all that I .should need durinjf the rest of niv lif'. To ll::h and to liunt, to collert a few skins, and exehann'e them for necessaries, was all that I seemed destined to do, and to acquire, for the future. I returned to the Indian village, where at this time; much scarcity of food prevailed. We were often for twenty-four hours williout eating; and when in the morning we had no victuals for the day before us, the custom was to black our faces with grease and charcoal, and exhil'it, through resignation, a temper as cheerfid as if in the midst of i)lenty. A r(>pelitii)u of the evil, however, soon indiu-ed us to leave tin; island in search of food; and accordingly we de])arted for the bav of Jlontehitaouy ; distant eight leagues, and where Ave found plenty of wild fowl and lish. While in the bay, my guardian's daughter-in-law w-as taken in labor of her first child. She was innnediately remo\'ed out of the common l- M \o tli'uik ■. Ti) Mx necessaries, , future, ell searelty out e:Uiiig-; ore us, the iiid oxliil;it, t of plenty, lie' island in iiiteliilaouy; ivl and lisn. en in labor bo oomniou Avas begun the family , no doubt, wnmuii. In the woods; be sbould bioet (if our Wawatam Iself round it bo bad uul carried Of tliis lly after a Inc child; licb he bud tbe young jfooted, and tbe Indians, blch I was familiar witli lbe«(! iiiidn.is; iiiul I -liall like ibis occasion to introduce; a few parlienkiis connected with their histoiy. The In'lians ai'c in general free from disorders; and an instance, of lii ir !iii:i'j' subject to drojisy, L^oiit, or stoiv, never caino within my kiiowi ■f\.^^. JiitlininiarMiis of tli", lim^-s are ani'ni;^' tht-ir most ordinary C'in>[)!:iiuls; aail ih<'umali^m siill mori- so, especially wilb tho aged, 'i'heir nio(!i,' of iif-, ia which they arc so much exposed to the wei ;i'i(l c'lhl, slrcpini;' on ill." nr'Hind, immI iahaliii'jf thc-jiiglit air, sulliciently arcoaiits for thi ir liabi i'y to tlie:^i' diseasrs. The remedi>'s on wlatli (lay most rely are envties, -calharlies, and llu- lancet; but especially (he J'lst. ISIeediiig is so fivnrit'' an op^'ratioa among the women that they ne\-er lose an occasion of enjoying it, whetlier sick ur well. I have Konietimes bled a dozen wumen in a murniag as ihev sat in a row, along a fallen tree, beginning with thi; tiist, opening the \(in, then proceeding to the s( eond, aiui sc on, having three or four individuals bleeding at the .sami' lime. In most villages, and partii-ulaily in tlios(! of tin.' Chippcways, tliis scr\ie(! was recpiired of iiu' ; and no [lersuasleii of mine could ovei induce wi woman to dispense with it. .In ali pails of the cnur.try, and among all the nations that 1 have seen, j>a!'!icu!:ir iaiUvi luds arrn^aL' to thrmselves the art of healing, but priiiei;iaily by m'ans of jireli'iided snrceiy; and operati(jns of this sort are always paid lor by a present made before they are begun. Indeed, whatever, as an iMipo.itor, may be the demerits of the operator, lii:5 reward may genei illy be said to be fairly earned by dint of corporcJ labor. I was onci' iires'ait at a peri'ormance of this kind, in whie'Ii tlie patient was a female child of about twelve years of age. Several of the elder chiefs wt're invited to the scene; and tin" same compliment was paid to myself, on account of the medical skill for wiiich it w;us pleased to give me credit. The pbysieiaii (so to call him) seated himself on the ground; and before him, on a new slmud blanket, was placed a basin of water, in wliieli were three bones, tbe hirger oars, as it a[i[)eari'd to me, of a swan's wing. In his band li'.i li.i I his s/uskiiji'o!, or rattle, with which he beat time to his mcdkiiie sniuj. The siek cliilu lay on a blanket, near the phvsieian, slu^ ajipeared to have iiuudi fi;ver, and a severe oj)prt'Sf ion . of the lungs, breathing with ditliculty, and bctrajing symptoms of the last stage of consumption. Aftei- i-iiiging for some time, the physician took one of tb'"- hones out of the basin : the bone was hollow ; and one end being applied to the \A I ■, !llHi M An 438 AtSXANDIR HKNRy'S CAFTIVITT. breast of the patient, lie put the other into his mouth, in order to remove the disorder bv suction. Having persevered i.i tliis as long as he thought proper, lie suddenly .seemi'd to force the bone into hia mouth, and swallow it He now acted the part of one sulTciiiig severe pain; but, presently, finding relief, lie made a long sj)eccli, and after this returned to singing, and to the accompaniment of his rattle. With the hitter during his song, he struck his head, breivst, sides, and buck, at the same time stwiiiiing, as if to vomit forth the bone. Relinquishing this attempt, he applied himself to suction a second time, and witii the second of thu three bones; and this also he soon seemed to swallow. Upon its disappearance, he began to distort liimself in the most fiight- ful manner, using every gesture which conld convey the idea of pain ; at length he succeeded, or pretended to succeed, in throwing up one of the bones. Tills was handed about to the spectators, and strictly examined; but nothing remarkable could be discovered. Upon this, he went back to his song and rattle ; and after some time threw up the second of the two bones. In the groove of this, the physician upon examination, found, and displayed to all present, a small white substance, resembling a piece of the quill of a fe.alher. It was passed round the company from one to the other; and declared, by the physician, to be the thing causing the disorder of his patient The multitude believe that these physicians, whom the French call jongleurs, or jugglers, can inflict as well as remove disorders. They believe that by drawing the figure of any person in sand or ashes, or on clay, or by considering any object as the figure of a person, and then pricking it with a sharp stick, or other substance, or doing, in any other manner, that which done to a living body would cause pain or injury, the individual represented, or supposed to be represented, will suffer accordingly. On the other hand, the mischief being done, another physician, of equal pretensions, can by suction remove it Unfortunately however, the operations which I have described were not successful in the instance referred to; for, on the day after they had taken place, the girl died. With regard to He.sh-wounds, the Indians certainly effect astonishing cures. Here, as above, much that is fantastic occurs; but the success of their practice evinces something solid. At the Sault de Sainte-Marie I knew a man who, in the result of a quarrel, received the stroke of an axe in his side. The blow was so violent, and the axe driven so deep, that the wretch who heU it could not withdraw it, but left it in the wound, aud lied. Shortly after, the ALEXANDER HENRY's CAPTIVITV. m , in order to liis as long as bone into ijis ilToniig auvcrn ccb, iind aftfir nittle. AViih Ics, and back, tion a second 1 also he soon lie most fiiglit- idea of piiin; rowing up one rs, and strictly L Upon tliis, ! threw \\p the physician upon liilc substance, 3sed round the B pliysician, to he French call sorders. They sand or aslios, a person, and r doing, in any cause pain or epresented, will g done, another Unfortunately^ )t successful in id taken place, Feet astonishing but the success the result of a ho blow was so 10 heU it could hortly after, the man was found, and brought into the fort, wliero siveral other Indlnni came to his assistance. Among these, one, wlio w.w a physician ink- mediately withdrew, in order to fetch Ijis jHiiei/umn, or medicine bag, with which he soon returned. The eyes of ih(! sullercr were fixed, Lis teeth closed, and liis case apparently dcsjx'nilc. The physician took from liis bag a small j)ortiuri of a very white Kubsttuice, resembling that of a bone; this lie scraped into a little water, and forcing open the jaws of the patient with a stick, he poured the rai,vture down his throat What foilowtfd was, that in a very short space of time the wound((l man moved his lycs: and beginning to vomits threw up a small lump of clotted blood. The physiciim now, and not before, examined the wound, from which I could see the breath escape, and from which a part of the omentum depended. This the physician did not set about to restore to its place, but, cutting it away, minced it into small pieces, and made his patient swallow it The man was then carried to his lodge, whore I. visited him daily. By the sixth day he was able to walk about; and within a month he grew quite well, except that he wius troubled with a cough. Twenty years after his misfortune he was still alive. Another man, being on his wintering-ground, and from home, hunt- ing beaver, was crossing a lake, covered with sm(x)th iw, with two beavers on his back, when his foot slipped, and he fell. At his side, in his belt, was his axe, the blade of which came upon the joint of his \vi-ist; and, the weight of his body coming upon the blade, his hand was completely separated from his arm, with the exception of a small piece of the skin. He had to walk three miles to his lodge, which was thus far away. The skin, which alone retiiined his hand to his arm, he cut through, with tlie same axe which had done the rest; and fortunately having on a shirt, he took it off, toie it up, and made a strong ligature above the wrist, so as in some measure to avoid the loss of blood. On reaching his lodge, he cured the wound himself, by the mere use of simples. I was a witness to its perfect healing. I have said that these physicians, jugglers, or practitioners of pre- tended sorcery, arc supposed to be capable of inflicting diseases; and 1 may add, that they arc sometimes themselves sufferers on this account In one instance I saw one of them killed, by a man who charged him with having brought his brother to death by malefic arts. The accuser, in his rage, thrust his knife into the belly of the accused, and ripped it open. The latter caught his bowels in his arms, and thus i ' 440 ILEXAMOEK IIENRT'U OAPTIVITr. walked toward his loJ.;;o, gallKuing thorn up, from tinv! to timr), m they escaped his hold. IlLs lodge wim iit no cuii»i(Ji:iublo di.stiincc, luul ho reached it ulivo, and died in it.. Our next cncanipmont was on the island of Siiiiit-iJurtin, off Cupc Hjiitit-Ignacc, so fullcd fnmi tlu; Josuit mission of Saint jniwitius t<> tlie Ilurons, formerly cstablislicd tin ir. Our object vaw to li.sh fm' stui-cdii, which wn did with griiit hucccss; and here, in thu injuyuu nt of a plentiful and cxct'llent supply of food, we remained uulil tlie twentieth day of August At this time, the autumn bein.^' , i liund, and a sure prospect of iucreaiied sicurity fidni hostile Indians ulluiJcd, Wawalam proposed going to liis intended wintering-ground. Tlii! removal was a subject of the greatest joy to niyself, on account of tlie freijuent insults, to which I had still to submit, from the Indians of our band or village, and to escape from which I would freely have gone ahuDst anywlu're. At our wintering-ground wo were to be alone; lor tlio Indian families, in the countries of which I write, separate in the winter season, for the convenience as well of subsistence as of the chase, and re-assueiate iu the spring luid summer. In preparation, our lirst business was to sail for Michilimaekinac, where being arrived, we procured from a Cunadiiui trader, on credit, ^'inic tri- fling articles, togethiT Avilh animuiiilion, and two bushels uf maize. This done, we steered directly fur lake Michigan. At L'Arbre Crochc we stopped one day on a visit to the Ottawa.s, whi-re all the people, and particularly Okinochumaki, the chief, the s;inie who took nie fiimi the Chippewayu, behaved with great ci\ility and kindness. The chief pre- sented me with a ba:, of maize. It is the Ottawas, it will be remem- bered, who raise this grain for the market of Michilinnekinac. Leaving L'Arbre Croche, we procieded direct to tlie mouth of the river Aux Sables, on the south side of the lake, and distant about a hundred and llfty miles from fiirt Michilimaekinac. On our voyage we passed several deep bays and rivers, and I found the banks of the lake to con.sist in mere sand.s, without any appearance of verdure; ihe sand drifting from one hill to another, like snow in Avinter. Iler.cc, all the rivers, which here enteilream. 'llic priiieijial animals which the, country allorded were the bl;;g or lid ilecr, the common Aiueiican deer, the bear, raccoon, beaver and marti n. The beavei' feeds in preference on young wood of the birch, aspen, and poplar tree, (^/lo^jtilus tuijra called by the Canadians Hard,) but in deln I of the^e on any other tiee, tlicise of the pine and lir kinds ex- cepted. These latter it employs only for building its dams and housea In wide meadows, where no wood is lu be found, it resorts, for all its jmrposes, to the roots of the rush and water lilly. It consumes great (piiintities of food, whetlu'r of roots or wood; and hence often reduces itself to the necessity of removing iiito ti new quarter. Its house hiis an arched dome-like roof, of an exlipticid iigure, and rises from three to four fei.'t above the surface of the water. Ic is always entirely surrounded by Avater; but, in the banks adjacent, the animal pi-ovides holes or wa.i/(e/<, of wiiicli the entrance is below the surface, and to which it retreats on the lirst alarm. Tho femide beaver usually produces two young at a tinio, but not unfroquenlly more. During tlio lirst year the young remain with their parents, in the st cuud they OL'cupy an adjoining apartment, and assist in bnilding, and in procuring food. At two jears old, they part, and build houses of their own; but often rove about for a considerable time, before they fix upon a spot There are beavers, cidled by the Indians old lacIaloi-K, who live by themselves, build no houses, and work at no dams, but shelter themselves in holes. Tlie usual method of taking "1XW~ 442 At.KXANDKR nENHY 8 CAPTIVITV. tljL'j^o is hy traps, formed of iron, or logs, nrul biiitrd with hniiichcs of pupliir. Ac(Nii liii'4 ti) IIk' Indiiins, tlu; beaver is miieli 'j;iveii to jealousy. If a straiiL;!' Ill ill' !i|)j)nMi!li('s llie ciibiii, ii batllc irnmodiat.'ly eiisucs. Of this the liiiiiii! rcniiiiiis an unconcerned spectator, careUss to which party thi- law of (;on{iuest may assign lier. Among tlic beaver wiiicli wo Killed, those who were witli me pretended to show demonstrations of this I'.u'i ; some ul' the skins of tin; males, and almost all of the older ones, healing mar!vs of violence, while none were ev(!r to be Hccn on tliu skins of the fenialcH. The Indians add, that the male is us constant as he is jealous, never attaching himself to more than one female; while the ('(III lie, on h'jr f-i le, is always fond of strangers. The most common way of taking the beaver is that of breaking up its house, which is done with trenching tofils, during the winter, when the ice is slnjiig enough to allow of approaching them; and when, also, th(; fur is in it8 most valuable state. Breaking up the house, however, is only a preparatory step. During this operation, the family make their escape to one or more of their wus/ics. These are t(j be discovered by striking the iee along the bank, and where the holes are, a iiollow sound is returned. After discovering and seaiching many of the.so in vain, we often found the whole family together in the aiimv. Wiush. I was taught occa.sionally to distinguish n full wash from an empty one, by the motion of the water above its entrance, occasioned by the breathing of the animals concealed in it. I'rom the washes they must be taken out witli the hands; and in doing this, the hunter sometimes receives severe wounds from their teeth. While a hunter, I thought, with the Indians, that the beaver flesh was very go(jd; but after that of the ox was again within my reach, I could not relish it. The tail is accounted a luxurious morsel. Beavers, say the Indians, were formerly a people endowed with speech, not less than with the other noble faculties they possess; but the Great iSpirit hiis taken this away from them, lest they should grow superior in understanding to mankind. The raccoon was another object of our chase. It wiis ray practice to go out in the evening, with dogs, accompanied by the youngest son of my guardian, to hunt this animal. The raccoon never leaves its hiding place till after sunset. As soon as a dog falls on a fresh track of the raccoon, he gives notice by a cry, and immediately pursues. His barking enables the hunter to follow. The raccoon, which travels slowly, and is soon overtaken, makes for a tree, on which he remains till shot illi brunches ilousy. If a ucs. Of lliis wluch piirly cr wli'uli WB (tistnitiona of of llio older l)u s<'cn on is lus constant fcmiile; while breaking up winter, when lid when, also, step. During more of their lon^; the bank, ter discovering ! wliolu family distinguish a ater above its oncealcd in it. ; and in doing m their teeth, leaver flesh was ' reach, I could 3d with speech, but the Great i grow superior my practice to i youngest son icver leaves its he gives notice lies the hunter soon overtaken, ALEXANDKH HKHRT's OAPTIVITT. ACter the fulling of the snow, notliitig more is necessary, for tnking the rarciM)ii, than to follow the trick of his feet In thi'< season, he seldom li'.ivcu his hiihiiation; and he iievor lays up any food. I liavo found MX at a time, in the hollow of one trei-, lyiiin; upon eadi otiicr, anil nearly in a torpid state. In more than one iiiht;iiins could cany In all, liio carcass must ]ia*-o exceeded live luindrcd \vri>;iit. As s'lon as wu rmcIh' I Ukj lod^.,!', lliu be ir';; ii ad was adorned wiUi all tlu' trinki'ts i:i ihi; piss 's:;i in of the I'un'.ly, siicii as .'-ilvx'r arm liraids and Avi'ist hands, and bi'lls of wampum, and liiyu 1 ,ij up )U a scidi'old, set up fur its rcci'pliun, wiihui tlio l.jdge. Near tlie ao.-'t! wdn placed a larji'f! (piaiuity of tu'oaceo. Till- next muriiiiiL;' no sooner appeared than jir.jiara'.ious W'.'ro made for a feast to tlie manes. The 1 jtl^e was cleaned aiid swi.'pt; and the lioad of ttie' liear lii'i'd up, and a new slroud hiankrt, which had never boon used before, spread under it. Thu jiipes \s\'W now lit; and Wawa- tam blew tobacco snviko iato the nostrils of the, boar, telling- me to do the same, and thus appeas;' the anger of the bear, on aecdunt of my havhig killed her. 1 endea\iired to p;-rsuadvt m_,- bv..efictor and frii'iidly adviser that she U) Ioniser had any life, and as-iuvl him that I was under.no apj)rehension from her displea.sure ; but i!i.' tirst proposition obtained no crevlit. and the second gave but liltle sa;is;'action. At lenglli, the. feast being rt'ady, Wawalam (Mnjiuaiccd a speech, resembling in many tliin^^s his address to the man' .-- n[' iiisitdalions and dep.irted companions; but having this peculiarity, ihat iu> liere deplored the necessity imdrr which men laoored thus to destroy their fricuJs Ho represcntid, however, that tiic inisfurtmie w-, . anavoitlable, since without doing so they could by no means subsist. The speech ended, we all ate heartily of the bear's flesh; and even t!u iiead itself, after remaining three days on the Kcafl'old, was put into the Uettle. It is only the female bear that makes her wint<'r lodging in the upper parts of trees, a |)rHc.lice by which llu' ytnu'g are eeiueil from the attacks of wolves and oilier animals. She braigs lurth in tht; v.dnier season; and renuiias in her lodge' till the cubs have gained vmie .streii'>tli. The male always lodges in the ground, under the ruols o€ U'e.-». He takes to this hahilalinn a.s soon as (he snow fails, and remams tiieru until it lias disappearetl. The Indians remark that the bear comes out in the spring with the same fat Avhi-di he carried in in the autumn, but after exercise of only a few days becomes lean. Excepting for a short part of the season, tiie male lives consiantly alone. The fat of our bear was melted down, and th.e o\\ fi'led si.v porcupine skins. A part of tl.e meat was cut into Htri[w and fire-dried, after which it was put into the vess'-is containing the oil, where it j'cuuii.*ed in perfect preservation imtil the middle of summer. February, in the country and by the people wliero and among whom I was, is called the Moon of Hard or Crusted iSnow ; for now the snow ALEXANDER HENUT'S CAPTIVITY. 449 can bear a man, or at least dogs, in pursuit of animals ot the cliase. At this season, the stag is very successfully hunted, his feet breaking through at every step, and tlu crust upon the snow cutting his legs witli its sharp edges to tlie very bone. He is consequently, in this distress, an easy prey ; and it frequently happened that we killed twelve in the short spaco of two hours. By this means we were oion put into possession of four thousand weight of dried venison, which was to bo carried on our back^?, along with all the rest of our wealth, for .ations were contin- ually put to myself ;is to whetlier or not I knew of any design to attack them. 1 found that they believed it possible for me to liave a fore- knowledge of events, and to be informed by dreams of all things doing at a distance. Protestations of my ignorance were received with but little sati^ifaction, and incurred the suspicion of a design to conceal my knowledge. On this account, tluM-efore, or hi ( ause I saw them tornn^nted with fears which had nothing but imagination to rest upon, I told tiiem, at length, that I knew there was no enemy to insult them ; and that they might proceed to Michilimackinac without danger fn>m the English. I further, and with more confidence, declared, thiit if ever ray countrymen returned to Micliilimackinae I would recommend them to their favor, on account of the good treatment wlii every ear, that of his priest excepted ; and it was, therefore, not till the latter gave us an interpretation, wiiich did not commence before the spirit had finished, that we learned the purport of this extraordinary communication. The spirit, as we were now informed by the priest, had, during his short absence, crossed lake Huron, and even proceeded as far as fort Ni.igara, which is at the head of lake Ontario, and thence to Montreal At fort Niagara, he had seen no great number of soldiers ; . but on descending the St. Lawrence, as low as Montreal, he had found the river covered with boats, and the boats filled with soldiers, in number like the leaves of the trees. He had met them on their way up the river, coming to make war upon tlie Indians. The chief had a third question to propose, and the spirit, without a fresh journey to fort Niagara, was able to give an instant and most favorable answer. " If," said the chief, "the Indians visit Sir William Johnson, will they bo received as friends ? " "Sir William Johnson," said the spirit, (and after the spirit the priest,) "Sir William Johnson will fill their canoes with presents, with blankets, kettles, guns, gunpowder and shot, and large barrels of rum, such as the stoutest of the Indians will not be able to lift; and every man will return in safety to his family." At this, the transport was universal ; and, amid the clapping of hands, a hundred voices exclaimed, " I will go, too! I will go, too! " The questions of public interest being resolved, individuals were now permitted to seize the opportunity of inquiring into the condition of their absent friends, and the fate of such as were sick. I observed that tho answers, given to these questions, allowed of much latitude of inter- pretation. Amid this general inquisitiveness, I yielded to the solicitations of my own anxiety for the future; and having first, like the rest, made my oflFeriiig of tobacco, I inquired whether or not I should ever revisit my native country. The question being put by the piiest, the tent shook as usual; after which I received this answer: "That I should take courage, and fear no danger, for that nothing would bap;;^cn to hurt me ; ALEXANDER BENRy'S OAFTIVI'nr. 460 and that I should, in the end, reach my friends and country in safety." These assurances wrouglit so strongly on my gratitude, that I presented an additional and extra offering of tobacco. The Great Turtle continued to bo consulted till near midnight, when all the crowd dispersed to their respective lodges. I was on the watch, through the scene I have described, to detect tl\e particular contrivances by which the fraud was carried on; but such wiis the skill displayed in the performance, or such my deficiency of penetration, that I made no discoveries, but came away as I went, with no more than those general surmises which will naturally be entertained by every reader. On the 10th of June, I embarked with the Indian deputation, com- posed of sixteen men. Twenty had been the number originally designed; and upward of fifty actually engaged themselves to the council for the undertaking; to say nothing of the general enthusiasm, at the moment of hearing the Great Turtle's promises. But exclusively of the degree of timidity which still previiiled, we are to take into account the various domestic calls, which might supersede idl others, and detain many with their families. In th(! evening of the second day of om* voyage, we reached the mouth of the Missisaki, where we found about forty Indians, by whom we were received with abundant kindniiss, and at nij>ht regaled at a great feast, held on account of our arrival. The viand was a preparation of the roe of the sturgeon, beat up, and boiled, and of the consistence of porridge. After eating, several speeches were made to us, of which the general topic was a request that we should recommend the village to Sir William Johnson. This request was also specially addressed to me, and I pro- mised to comply with it On the 14th of Juno, we passed the village of La Cloche, of which the greater part of the inhabitants were absent, being already on a visit to Sir William Johnson. This circumstance greatly encouraged the companions of my voyage, who now saw that they were not the first to run into danger. The next day, about noon, the wind blowing very hard, we were obliged to put ashore at Point aux Grondines, a place of which some description has been given befjre. While the Indians erected a hut, I employed myself in making a fire. As I was gathering wood, an unusual sound fixed my attention for a moment; but, as it presently ceased, and as I saw nothing from which I could suppose it to proceed, I continued my employment, till, advancing further, I was alarmed by a repetition. I imagined that it came from above my head; but after !|| m ALEXANDER HENRT'S CAPTIVITT. looking that way in vtiin, I cast my cycis oa tho ground, and there discovered a rattlesnake, at not more tliun two feet from my naked k^gs. Tho reptile was coiloJ, uiid its liead raised considerably ab.ne its body. Had 1 advanced another step before my discovery, I must iiavo trodden upon it. I no sooner saw the snake tlian I Iiiistened to tlic canoo, in order to procure my gun ; but the liuiiiins, observing wiiat I was doing, iiujuired the occasion, and being infornu'd, begged me to desist. At tiie same time they followed nie to the spot, wilh their pipes and tobacco pouches in their hands. On returnin , 1 found the snake still coiled. The Indians, on their ))art, surrounded it, all addressing it by turns, and calUng it their t/raitJ/uther; but yet keeping at some distance. Du- ring this part of the ceremony they lilled their pipes; and now each blew the smoke toward the snake, who, as it appeared to me, really received it with pleasure. In a word, after reniiiiiiing coilcid, and re- ceiving insencc, for the space of half an hour, it stretched itself along the ground in visible good humor. Its length was between four and five feet. Having remained outstretched for some time, at last it moved slowly away, the Indians following it, and still addres.-.ing it by the title of grandfather, beseeching it to take care of their families during their absence, and to be pleased to open the heart of Sir William Johnson, so that he might show (kcin churily, and liU their canoes with rum. One of the chiefs added a petition that the snake would take no notice of the insult which had been offered him by the Englishman, who would even have put him to death but for the interference of the Indians, to whom it was hoped he would impute no part of the olfcnsc. They further requested that he would remidn and inliabit their country, and not return among the English, that is, go eastward. After the rattlesnake was gone, I learned that this was the first time that an individual of the species had been seen so far to the northward and westward of the river Des Frangais; u circumstance, moreover, from ■which my companions were disposed to infer that this imuiito liad come or been sent on purpose to meet thom; that his errand had been no other than to stop th'sni on their way ; and that consequently it would bo most " advisable to return to the point of departure. I was so fortunate, however, as to prevail with them to embark; and at si.\ o'(;lock in the evening we again encamped. Very bttle was spoken of through tho evening, the rattlesnake excepted. Early the ne.\t morning we proceeded. Wc had a serene sky and very little wind, and the Indians therefore determined on steering across the lako to an island which just appeared in the horizon; saving, by I ^. ALEXAKDER HENRT'S CAPTIVITT. 461 cnuii' across this course, a distance of thirty miles, which would bo lost in keeping the shore. At nine o'clock, A. M., wo had a ligJit breeze astern, to enjoy the benefit of which we hoisted sail. Soon after the wind increased, and the India..'-, beginning to be alarmed, frequently called on the rattle- snake to come to their assistance. By degrees the waves grew high; and at eleven o'clock it blew a hurricane, and we e.\p(;cted every moment to be swallowed up. From prayers the Indians now proceeded to sacri- fices, both alike offered to the god rattlesnake, or manito kinihlc. One of the chiefs took u dog, and after tying its fon; legs togetluT, threw it overboard, at the s:mie time calling on the snake to preserve us from being drowned, and desiring him to satisfy his hunger with the carcass of the dog. The snake Avas un propitious, and the wind increased. Another chief saciidced another dog, with the addition of some tobacco. In the prayer which accompanied these gifts, he besought the snake, as before, not to avenge upon the Indians the insult which he had received from mysclt", in the conception of a design to put him to death. He assured the snake that I was absolutely an Englishman, and of kin neither to him nor to them. At the conclusion of this speech, an Indian who sat near me observed, that if we were drowned it would be for my fault alone, and that I ought myself to be sacrificed, to appease the angry manito ; nor was I without apprehensions that in case of extremity this would bo my fate ; but happily for me, the storm at length abated, and we reached the island safely. The next day was calm, and we arrived at the entrance of the na\i- gation which leads to lake Aux Clmes. (This lake is now called lake Simcoe.) We presently passed two short carrying-placer, at each of which were several lodges of Indians, (these Indians are Chippeways, of the particular description called Missisakies; and from their residence at Matchedash, or Matchitashk, also called Matchedash or Matchitashli: Indians,) containing only women and children, the men being gone to the council at Niagara. From this, as from a former instance, my companions derived new courage. On the 18th of June, we crossed lake Aux Claies, which appeared to be upwards of twenty miles in length. At its further end we came to the carrying-place of Toronto. Here the Indians obliged me to carry a burden of more than a hundred pounds weight The day was very hot, and the woods and marshes abounded with musquitoes; but the Indians walked at a quick pace, and I could by no means see myself left behind. The whole country was a thick forest, through which our only road was a foot-path, or such as, in America, is exclusively termed an Indian path. i ▲UEXINDER hxnkt's OAPTiyrrT. Next morning at ten o'clock, wo reached the shore of lake Ontario Here we were employed two days in making canoes out of the bark of the elm tree, in which we were to transport ourselves to Niagara. For tliis purpose the Indians first cut down a tree ; tlien stripped off the bark in one entire sheet of about eighteen feet in length, the incision being lengthwise. The canoe was now complete as to its top, bottom, and sides. Its ends were next closed by sewing the bark together ; and a few ribs and bars being introduced, tlie architecture was finished. In this manner we made two canoes, of Avhich one carried eight men and the other nine. On the 2 1st, we embarked at Toronto, and encamped in the even- ing four miles short of fort Niagara, which the Indians would not approach till morning. At dawn, tile Indians were awake, and presently assembled in council, still doubtful as to the fate they were to encounter. I assured them of the most friendly welcome; and at length, after painting themselves with the most lively colors, in token of their own peaceable views, and after singing the song which is in use among them on going into danger, they embarked, and made for point Missisaki, which is on the north side of the mouth of the river or strait of Niagara, as the fort is on the south- A few minutes after I crossed over to tlie fort; and here I was received by Sir William Johnson, in a manner for which I have ever been grate- fully attached to his person and memory. Thus was completed my escape from the sufferings and dangers which the capture of fort Michilimackinac brought xipon me ; but the property •which I had carried into the upper country was left behind. The reader ■will therefore be far from attributing to mo any idle or unaccountable motive, when he finds me returning to the scene of my misfortunes. rf* NARRATIVE OF TEE CAPTIVITY FRANCES NOBLE. James Wiiidden, the maternal grandfather of Mrs. Shute, was a cap- tain in the army at the taking of Cape Breton in 1745. He owned a tract of land on Swan Island, in the river Kennebec, wlioro he lived with his family. One of his daughters married Lazarus NobUt, of Portsmouth, who lived on the island with her father. The Indians had been accus- tomed to visit Capt. Whidden for the purposes of trade. There was a garrison on the island to secure the inabitunts from the attacks of the enemy in time of war. One morning, about the year 1755, a little after daybreak, two boys went out of the garrison and left the gate open. Tlie Indians were on the watch, and, availing themselves of the opportunity, about ninety entered the garrison. The inhabitants immediately discovered that the enemy was upon them; but there was no escape. Captain Whidden and his wife retreated to the cellar, and concealed themselves. Noble and his hired man met the Indians at the head of the stairs, and fired upon them, wounding one of them in the arm. The Inr u u^ did not return the fire, but took Noble, his wife and seven chilure ., with Timothy Whidden and Mary Holmes, prisoners. The hired man and two boys escaped. The captives were carried to the water's side and bound; excepting such as could not run away. The Indians then returned to the garrison, burnt the barn and plundered the house, cut open the feather beds, strewed the feathers in the field, and carried off all the alver and gold they could find, and as much of the provisions as they chose. It was supposed they omitted to burn the house from the suspi- cion that the captain and his wife, from whom they had, in times of peace, received many favors, were concealed in it Captain Whidden, after the destruction of his property on the bland returned to Greenland, in this state, which is supposed to have been his native place, and there died. 464 CArriVlTV OF FflANCES NOBI.E. The Tndiiins nlso funk, in .i wo^.d on t]w island, an old man by the name of Potncroy, who was ('miiloycd in making siiin^dt's. Having collected their eaplivfs and iilunder, liicy immediately loft tho island, and nimmenced their rct\iin to Catia-Ja to disposo of their prey. Pomc- roy WHS old and fe«d)le, and unable to endure the fatigue of the march, without more assistance than tho savages thought tit to render liim, and tliey killed him on the journey. They were more nttentivo to the chil- dren, as for them they undoubtedly expected a higher price or a greater ransom. Abigail, one of the children, died among the Indians. Tho other captives arrived safe in Canada, and were variously disposed of. Mr. Noble was sold to a baker in Quebec, and his wife to a lady of the same place as a chambermtiid. They were allowed to visit each other and to sleep tog(!ther. Four of the cJiildren were also sold in Quebec, as were Timothy Whidden and Mary Holmes. The captives in that city were exchanged within a year, and returned to their homes. Mr. Whid- den and Miss Holmes were afterward' united in marriage. Fanny Noble, the principal subject of this memoir, at the time of her captivity, was about thirteen months old. She was carried by a party of Indians to Montreal. In their attempts to dispose of her, they took her one day to the liouse of Monsieur Louis St. Auge Charlec, an eminent merchant of that place, who was at that time on a journey to Quebec. His lady was called into the kitchen by one of her maids to see a poor infant crawling on the tile floor in dirt and rags, picking apple peelings out of the cracks. She came in, and on kindly noticing the child, Fanny immediately caught hold of the lady's gown, wrapped it over her head, and burst into tears. The lady could not easily resist this appeal to her compassion. She took up the child, who clung about her neck and repeatedly embraced her. The Indians offered to sell her theur little captive, but she declined buying, not choosing probably in the absence of her husband to venture on such a purchase. The Indians left the house, and slept that night on the pavements before the door. Fanny, who had again heard the voice of kindness, to which she had not been accustomed from her saTago masters, could not be quiet, but disturbed the slumbers and touched the heart of the French lady by her incessant cries. This lady had then lately lost a child by death, and was perhaps more quick to feel for the sufferings of children, and more disposed to love them, than she would otherwise have been. Early the next morning the Indians were called into the house; Fanny was purchased, put bto a tub of water, and having been thoroughly washed, vas dressed in the clothes of the deceased child, and put to bed. She ■woke SQuling, and seemed desirous of repaying her mistress' kindness OAPTIVITr OF JBANCEa NODLB. by her infantile prnttlo and fond cnrcssos. Funny could never learn for wliiit piico she wiis bouj^lit of the Indians, ns her Frencli motiiur de- clined answerin;,' her quostioiis upon tliiit subject, tolling lier to bo a good girl, and bo timnkful tiiat slin was not still in their power. M. and Madam St. Autfc took a lively interest in their little cnptivo, and treated her with much tenderness and .itl'ectiun. She felt for them a filial attachment. When her parent.s were exchanged, her mother, on h( r return home, called upon Fanny, and the oontinued hovering about her b unknown, but he left ConadB witiMrat embracing her or seeing her agaia OAniTITT or rRANOKS MOJILR. MY Her French pnrentH put her to a boarding school ullaohed to a naa- ncry in Moiilriiiil, wlur*! hlio remained Hi-vcrtl years, and was taught ali brandies <»t necdit! work, with jijeoi^rapliy, niusic, |>iiintin;;, dtn. In tho same' Hcliool wcro two Missis .Idimsons, who were (Mplurod al ('harlt'8town, in 1751,1111(1 twoMis«is IMiipp^ th(! daui^hlers of Miu llowc, who wan taken at lliiisdale, in 175o. Fanny was in mIkhiI wiion Mrn. lluwo camn fur lier dauMjiiUrs, atid lon^ renieniberiid tho ^ruii and lumentatioDH of tlie youiu^; captives when ohli^ed to leavo tiuir Kch<»ol and maleH to return to a slnm^c, lli>iuis dress, when she ventured to accept his oii'erings, and immediately ran from his presence. The next day, Joseph returned with the Indians to St. Francois, but some time afterward M. iSt Auge purchiused him of the savages, and dressed him ia tlui French sts le; but he never appeared so bold and majestic, so spirited and vivacious, as when arrayed in his Indian habit and associating with his Indian fiiends. lie iiuwever became much attached to SL Auge, who put him to school ; and when his sister parted with him upon leaving Canada, he gave her a si- let chargt^ not to let it be known where he was, lest he too sliould be obliged to leave his friends and return to the pi ice of his birth. When between eleven and twelve years of age, Fanny waa sent to the school of L'rsuline nuns in Quebec, to complete her educatioa Here the discipline wiis much more strict and solemn than in the school at Montrcfil. In both places the teachers were called half nuns, who, not being professed, were allowed to go in and out at pleasure; but «l Quebec the pupils wore in a great measure secluded from the world* being permitted to walk only in a small garden by day, and confined by bolls and bars in their wWa at night This restraint was irkoome to Fanny. She grew discontented; and at the close of the year ww permitted to return to her French parents at Montreal, and agiun < the school in that city. .- ' ' .... .^ »•, - , 498 OAPTITITT or VRANOEB NOBLB. While Fanny was in the nunnery, being then in her fourteenth year, she was one day equally surprised and alarmed by the entrance of a stranger, who demanded her of the nuns as a redeemed captive. Her father had employed this man, Arnold, to seek out his daughter and obtain her from the French, who had hitherto succeeded in detaining her. Arnold was well calculated for this employment lie was secret, (Subtle, resolute and persev(!ring. He had been some time in the city without exciting a suspicion of his business. He had ascertained where the captive was to be found — he had procured the necessary powers to secure her, and in his approach to the nunnery was accompanied by a sergeant and a iile of men. The nuns were unwilling to deliver up their pupil, and required to know by Avhat right he demanded her. Arnold convinced them that his authority was derived from the governor, and fhey durst not disobey. Tiiey, however, prolonged the time as much as possible, and sent word to M. St. Auge, hoping that he would be able in some way or other to detain his adopted daughter. Arnold, however, was not to be delayed or trilled with. He sternly demanded the captive by the name of Noble in the governor's name, and the nuns were awed into submission. Fanny, weeping and trembling, was delivered up by those who wept and trembled too. She accompanied Arnold to the gate of the nunnery, but the idea of leaving forever those whom she loved and going with a company of armed men, she knew not whither, was too overwhelming, and she sank upon the ground. Uer cries and lamen- tations drew the people around her, and she exclaimed bitterly against the cruelty of forcing her away, declaring that she could rot and would not go any further as a prisoner with those frightful soldiei-s. At this time an English officer appeared in the crowd ; ho reasoned with her, soothed her, and persuaded her to walk with him, assuring her the guard slipuld be dismissed and no injury befall her. As they pa.ssed by the door of M. St Auge, on their way to the inn, her grief and exclamations were renewed, and it was with great difficulty tliat she could be per- suaded to proceed. But the guard had merely fallen back, and were near enough to prevent a rescue, had an attempt been made. Captain M'Clure, the English officer, promised her that she should be permitted to visit her French parents the next day. She found them in teajs, but they eould not detain her. M. St Auge gave her a handful of money, and embraced l»er, blessed her, and rushed out of the room. His lady supplied her with clothes, and their parting was most affectionate and affecting. She lived to a considerably advanced age, but she could never qpeak of this scene without visible and deep emotion. She was carried down the river to Quebec, where she tarried a few CAPTIVITT OF PRANCES NOBLE. 460 days, and then sailed with Captain Wilson for Boston. She anivcd at that port in July, one month bufore she Avas fourteen years of age. She was j(!yfully recciveil by her friends, but her father did not long survive her rciuni. AfUir his death she resided in the family of Captain Wilson, at liostou, until she had acquired the English language, of which before she was almost entirely ignorant. She then went to Newbury, and lived in the family of a relative of her father, wliere siie found a home, and that peace to which she had long been a stranger. Her education liad (|uaiilied her for the instruction of youth, and she partially devoted herself to tliat employment. She was (,'ngaged in a school at Hampton, where she formed an aecjuaintance with Mr. Jonathan Tilton, a gentleman of good [)roperty in Ken.sington, whom she married about the year 1776. He died in 1798. In 1801, she married Mr. Jolm Shute, of New Market, and lived in the village of Newfields, in that town, till her death, in September, 1819. She was much respected and esteemed in life, and her dcftith w;is, as her life had been, that of a Christian, '«v <■■ C;rb. NARRATIVE OP THE CAPTIVITY OF QUINTIN STOCKWELL. Im the year 1677, Si'ptombor the 19th, between sunset and dark, the Indians came upon us.* I and anotlier man, being- togetlier, wc ran away at the outcry the Indians made, sliouting and shooting at some otliors of the English that were lianl l)y. We took a swamp that was at h^ind for our refuge; the enemy espying us so near them, ran after us, and shot many guns at us; tlirec guna were discharged upon mc, tlic enemy being within three rods of me, besides many otliers before that. Being in this swamp, which was miry, I slumped in and fell down, whereupon one of the enemy stepped to me, with his hatchet lifted up to knock me on the head, supposing that I had been wounded and so imlit for any other travel. I, as it hapj)encd, had a pistol by me, which, though uncharged, I presented to the Indian, who presently stepped back, and told me if I would yield I should have no hurt; he said, which was not, true, that they had destroyed all Hatfield, and that the wcxids were full of Indians, whereupon I yielded myself, and falling into their hands, was by three of them led away uiu^ the place wJicncfl fust I began to make my flight Here two other Indians came running to us, and the one lifting up the butt end of his gun, to knock me on the head, the other with his hand put by the blow, and said I was his friend. I was iiow by my own h(nise, which the Indians burnt the last year, and I was about lo build uj) again; asid there I had some hopes to escape from them. There was a horse ii:st by, which they ''ui mo, take. I did so, but madt; no attempt to (•••cape thereby, btieause the eiiemy was near, and the beast was slow and '.i;''. Then was I in hopes they would send mc to take my own horses, >,iiich they did; but they were so frightened that I could not come near ;.:) them, and so fell still into tin; enemy's hands. They now took and bound me and led mc away, and soon Wius I brought into the company 'At Dcerfield, Mass. QUiNTm stockwell's cAPTivrry. 40^ of other captives, who were that day brought away from Hatfield, who were about a mile off; and liero methought was matter of joy and sorrow botli: joy to see company, and sorrow for our condition. Then wore we pinioned and led away in the night over the mountains, in dark and hideoua ways, about four miles further, before we louk up our place for I'est, which was in a di.-.mal plaoe of wood, on the east side of that mountiiin. We were kept bound all that night. The Indians kept waking, and wo had little mind to sleep in tliis niglit's travel. The Indians dispersed, and as they went made strange noises, as of wolves and owls, and other wild beasts, to the end that they might not 1(jso one another, and if followed they might not be discovered by the English. About the break of day we marched again, and got over that great river at Pccomptuck [Dei-rtield] river mouth, and there rested about two hours. Here the Indians iiiarked out upon the trees tiie numb(;r of their captives and slain, as their manner is. Now was I again in great danger, a quarrid having arose about nie, wliose captive 1 was; for three took mc. I thought I must be killeil to end the controversy, so wiion they put it to mo, whose I was, I said three Indians tt)ok me; so lliey agreed to have nil a share in me. I had now three niasteis, and he was my chief master who laid liands on me first; and thus was I fallen into the liands of the worst of all the compan)-, as Asphelon, the Indian captain, UAd. mo which captain was all along very kind to me, and a great comfort to the English. In^this place they gave us some victuals, which they had brought from the English. This morning also they sent ten men forth to the town of Deertield to bring away what they could find. Some provision, some corn out of th^ meadow, they brought to us on horses, which they had there taken. From lience we wt^nt uj) about the falls, where we crossed that river again; and whilst I was going. I fell right down lame of my old wounds, which I had in tiie war, and whilst I was thinking I should therefore be killed by the ' ulians, and wh;it death I should ilie, my pain v.'as suddenly gone, and I \\as much (Micouraged again. We had about eleven horses in that company, which the lu'lians used to convey burdt^ns, and to carry women. It was afternoon when wo now crossed that river. We traveled up it till night, and then took up our lodging in a dismal place, and were staked down, and .sprcxid out on ciur backs; and so we lay all nighty yCa, so we lay many nights. Tluy told me their law was that wc should lie so nine nights and by that time it was thought we should be out of our knowledge. The manner of staking down was thus: our arms and legs stretched out, were stalced fast down, and a cord about our necks, so that we could stir noways. The lirtit uight of staking down, being much tired; 472 QDIKTIN BTOCKWKLL'S CAPTIVITr. I slept as comfortable as ever. Tlie next day we went up the river, and crossed it, and at night lay in Squakhcag [Nortlilield] meadows. Our provision vnvs soon spent, and vchilo we lay in those meadows the Indians M'cnt u hunting, and the English army (■anio out afier us. Tiicn the Indians moved again, di\iiling tlu'insth fs and the captives into many companies, that the Engli^<^l might not fullow their tracks. At night, having crossed tlic! rivt r, we met again at the j)lace appointed. The iie.xt day we crosis<.d il again on Sijuaklieag .side, and there we took up our quarters for a long time. I .suj)pose liiis might be about thirty miles above Squakheag; and heie were the Indians quite out of all fear of tho English, but in great fear of the Mohawks. Hero they built a long wigwam, and had a great dance, as they call it, and concluded to burn three of us, and hud got bark to do it with; and, as 1 understood afterward, I was one that was to be burnt, sergeant Plimpton another, and Benjamin Waite's wife tlie third. Though I knew not which was to be burnt, yet I perceived som*; were designed thereunto; so much I understood of their language. That night I could not sleep for fear of next day's work. The Indians being weary with the dance, lay down to sleep, and slept soundly. The English were ;',11 loose; then I went out and brought in wood, and mended the fire, and mule a noi.'^e on purpose, but none awakened. I Ihouglit if any of tlu! English would awake, we might kill them all sleeping. 1 removed out of Uie way all the guns and hatchets, but ray heart failing me, I put all the things where they were again. J^'he next day, when wc were to be burnt, our master and t-ome others spoke for us, and the oril was jjrevented in this place. Hereabouts we lay three weeks togctlier. Here I had a shirt biought to me to make, and one Indian said it should be made this way, a second another way, a third his way. I told them I would midce it that way my chief master said; Avhercupoii one Indian struck me on the face with his fist. I suddenly rose up in anger, ready to strike again ; upon this happened a great hubbub, and the Indians and English came abo\it me. I was fain to humble myself to my master, so that matter was put upi. Before I came to this place, my three masters were gone a hunting; I was left with another Indian, all tlie company being uj)r)M a march; 1 was left with this Indian, wiio fell tick, so that I was fain to carry his gun and hatchet, and had opportunity, and had thought to have dispatched him and run away ; but did not, for that the English cajitives had promised the. contrary to one another; becau-sc, if one should run away, that would provoke the Indians, and endanger the rest that could not run away. Whilst wc were here, Benjamin Stebbins, going with some Indians to Wachusct Hills, made his escape from them, and when the news of his QUINTIN STOCKWELL'S OAPTIVITT. 473 escape came wo wore all presently called in and boinil; one of the Indians, a captiiti amimjj them, and always our ^irat I'liri;'!, m"t mo coming in, and tuld mo Stobbins wfis run away; and tiio Inli ins spako of burning us; si>mi', of only burning and biting nil" mw li i-rr-i, by and by. lie said thon; would bo a court, an 1 nil wmil 1 spivik I'loir minds, but ]n: W')uld spi'ak last, ai;d would say, that tii? In.lim wlio lot Stob- bins run away Wiis oidy in fault, and so no hurt should bo d mo us, and added, " foir not," so it proved accordingly. Wiiijst, w.' ling 'rod hore- about, provi>i')M grow scarce; one boar's foot must sorv i liv.! of us a whole day. Wo b(\gan to out horse-flesh, and eat up s.'von in all; three were left alive and not killed. After we had been bore, s )ine of tiio Indiaius h;ul been down, and fallen upon Iladloy, aal wor;' ii'; ;u bv the English, agr(!od witii and lot go again. Tluy wore to nn'ot tiie En/lish upon such a plain, there to make further terms. Ash;) iloa was mueii for it, but Wauhusot sachems, when they came, wore much a^iiast it, luid were fortliis: that w(? should meet the Eng'isli, indeoJ, hut there fall upon them and light them, and take thom. Then Ashpaldn spake to us English, not to speak a word more to further that m itt"i', f »r mischief would come of it. WhcMi tho.se Indians came tVom Waeliu^et tlr;re camo with them sfjuaws and children, about four scorr, wlio rep )rto'l that tho English had taken Uncas, and all his men, and sent them beyond seas. They were much enraged at this, and asked if it were true; we said, no. Then was Aslipalon angry, and said lie would no more l)eiiiive English- men. They examined us every one apart, and then tlo'y dealt worse with us for a season than before. Still provision was scarce. We came at length to a placi; called Scpiaw Maug river; there we hoped for sal- mon; but we came too late. This place I account to be above two hundred miles above Deerfield. We now parted into two companies; some went one way, and some went another way; and we went over a mighty mountain, it taking us eight days to go over it, and tra\ elod voiy hard too, having every day either snow or rain. We noted that on this mountain all the water run northward. Hero also we wanted provision; but at length we nwt again on the other side of the mountain, viz: on the north side, at a riviu" that runs into the lake; and we were then half a day's journey off the lake. We staid tlu're a [>reat while, to make canoes to u.-o over the lake. Here I was frozen, and again we were like to starve. All the Indians went a hunting, but could gi't nothing; divers days they powwowed, and yet got nothing; then they desired the iMiglish to pray, and confessed they could do nothing; they would have us priy, and see what the Eng- lishman's God could do. 1 prajcd, so dkl sergeant Plimpton, in ani:)thcr AH QUINTOV STOCKWXLL'S OAPTIVITT. place. The Indians reverently attended, morning and night Next day thoy got boars; then they would needs have us desire a blessing, and return thanks at meals; after a while they grew weary of if, and the sacliem bid forbid us. Wiien I was frozen they were very cruel toward me because I could not do as at other times. Wiien we v.nnw to the liike we were ngain sadly put to it for provision. We were fain to eat touchwood fried in bear's grease. At last we found a company of rac- coons, and then we made a feast; and the manner Avas that we must eat all. I perceived there would be too much for one time, so one Indian who s;it next to me bid me .slip away some to him under his coat, and he would hide it for me till another time. This Indian, as S(X)n as lie had got my meat, stood up and made a speech to the rest, and discovered me ; so that the Indians were very angry and cut me another piece, and gave me raccoon grease to drink, which made me sick and vomit. 1 told them I liad enough; so ever after that tliey would give me none, but still tell me I had raccoon enough. So I suffered much, and being frozin, w;is full of pain, and could sleep but a little, yet must do mywork. AViien they went upon th(> lake, and as tlioy camo to it, they lit cf a moose and killed i(, and staid there till they had eaten it all up. Aft(vr entering uj)on the lake, there arose a great storm, and we thought Ave sliouid all be cast away, but at last we got (o i}n island, and there they went to powwtiwing. The powwow said that I't'iijamin Waito and another man was coming, and that storm was raised to cast them away. Tliis afterward appeared to be true, though then I believed them not. Upon tills island we lay still several days, and then set out again, but a storm took us, so that we lay to and fro, upon certain islands, about three weeks. W<; had r.o provision but raccoons, so that the Indians themselves tiiought they should be starved. They gave me nothing, so that I was sundrj' days without any provision. We went on upon the lak(>, upon that isle, about a day's journey. We had a little sled upon Avliich we drew our load. Before noon, I tired, and just then the Indians met with some Frenchmen ; then one of the Indians that took me, came to me, and called me all manner of bad names, and threw me down upon my back. I told him I could not do any more ; then he said he must kill me. I thought he Avas about to do it, for he pulled out his knife and cut out my pockets, and Avrapped them about my face, helped me up, and took my sled and Avent aAvay, giving me a bit of biscuit, as big as a Avalnut, Avhich he had of the Frenchman, and told me he Avould give tne a pipe of tobacco. When my skid Avas gone, I could run after liim, but at last I could not run, but Avont a foot-paco Q0INTIN STOCKWKtL'B CAPTIVITT. 4,19 The Indians were soon out of sight. I followed as well as I could, ind had many fulls upon the ice. At last, I was so spent, I had not stronjijth enough to rise again, but I crept to a tree that lay along, and ;;()t upon it, and there I lay. It was now night, and very sharp weather : I ctninted no other hut that I must die here. Wiji'st I was thinking df death, an Indian hall'icd, and I answered him ; he came to me, and calU'd nv had names, and told me if I could not go, he must knock me on the head. I told him he must th(!n do so ; lie saw how I had wallowed in the snow, but could not rise ; then he took liis coat and wrapt me in it, and weyt back and sent two Indians with a sled. One said ho must knock me on the head, the other said no, they would carry mo away and burn me. Then they bid me stir my instep, to see if that were frozen ; I did so. Wiion they saw that, they said tliat was Wurregtni. There was a chirurgeon among the French, they said, that could cure me ; then they took mo upon a sled, and carried mo to the (Ire, and made nmeh of mo ; pulled oflF my wet and wrappi^J me in my dry clothes, and made me a good bed. They had kill(>d an otter, and gave me some of the broth made of it, and a bit of t!»e flct^h. Here I slept till toward day, and then Avas able to get up and put on my clothes. One of the Indians awaked, and seeing me walk, shouted, as rejoicing at it. As soon as it wiis light, I and Samuel Russell went before on the ice, upon a river. They said I must go where I could on fjot, else I shoiild freeze. Samuel Russell slipt into the river with one f(wt ; the Indians called him back, and dried his stocking.s, and then sent us away and an Indian with us to pilot us. We went four or five miles before tiiey oveilook us. I was then pretty well spent. Samuel Russell was, ho said, faint, and wondered how I could live, for he had, he said, ten meals to my one. Then I was laid on the sled, and they ran away with me on the ice ; the rest and Samuel Russell came softly after. Samuel Russell I never saw more, nor know I what became of him. They got but half way, and we got through to Shamblee about midnight. Six miles off Shamblee, (a French town,) the river was open, and, when I came to travel in that part of the ice, I soon tired ; and two Indians ran away to town, and one only was left ; he would carry me a few rods, and then I woidd go as manj', and then a trade we drove, and so were long in going the six miles. This Indian was now kind, and told mo that if he did not carry me I would die, and BO I should have done, sure enough ; and he said I must tell the English how be helped me. When we came to the first house, there was no m QUINTIN BTOOKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. inhabitant Tiie Indian wiis also spent, and bolli wore discouraged ; ho said wo must nuw dii.': Uyother. At last iu! left me alone, and got to anotluT liDUsc, and tlii-'neo came some French iind Jiidiu;.s, and brought me ill. Till! French Wi^re kind, and put my liaiuls u;id feet in cold water, and gave iik! a drain of brandy, and a lillle lia.sty pudding and milk ; wiicn 1 tasted victuals, 1 was Imngry, and could not jiave for- borne it, l)ut I could not get it. Now and then tliry would give; nie a little, as tli!'y thought bi'st for me. 1 laid by the lire with the Indian that night, but could not sleep for pain. Ne.\t morning, the Indians and French frll out about me, because the French, iis tin; liuiiaiis said, loved the Eiiglisli better than the Indians. The French presently turned the Indians out of doors, and kept nu;. Tliey were vi'iy kind and careful, and gave me a little something now and liu'ii. Willie I was lierc, all the men in that town came to sec me. At tliis house [ was three or four days, and then invited to another, and after tliat to another. In this place I was about thirteen days, and received much civility from a young man, a bachelor, wlio invited me to liis house, with whom I was for the most part of the time, lie was so kind as to lodge mo in tiie bed with himself, gave me a shirt, and would have bought me, but could not, as the Indians asked one hundred pounds for me. We were then to go to a place called Sorel, and that young man would go with me, because the Indians should not hurt me. This man carried me on the ice one day's journey, for I could not now go at all, and there was so much water on the ice we could go no farther. So the Frenchman left me, and provision for me. Here wc staid two nights, and then traveled again, for now the ice was strong, and in two days more we came to Sorel. When we got to the first house, it was late in the night ; and here again the people were kind. Next day, being in much pain, I asked the Indians to carry me to the chirurgeons, as they liad promised, at which they were wroth, and one of them took up his gun to knock me, but the Frenchman would not suffer it, but set upon him and kicked him out of doors. Then we went away from thence, to a place two or three miles off, wliere the Indians had wigwams. When I came to these wigwams, some of the Indians knew me, and seemed to pity me. Wliile I was here, which was three or four days, the French came to see me ; and it being Cliristmas time, they brought cakes and other provisions with them and gave to me, so that I had no want. The Indians tried to cure me, but could not. Then I asked for the chirur- geon, at which one of the Indians in anger struck me on tlie face with his fist A Frenchman being by, spoke to him, but I knew not what he QcnfTiK stookwkll'o, cAPTivnr. 477 Scoid, nnd then went his wny. By and by came the captain of the place into tlio wigwam, willi ubout twdvi! aimed nu-n, and asked wlu-ru the Iiidiaii was that stnuk tlie Eiiylisliman. Tlioy look Iiim niid told liim he should go to tiie bilboes, and then be hnnj^ed. The Indians were much turrillcd at tliis, as appeared by tlieir countenances and trembling. I \v(;uld liavo gom.' too, but the Fruudiman bid me not fear ; that the Indians duist not hurt m(\ When that Indian was a'cne, I had two masters still. I asked them to carry me" to that captain, that I might speak for tlie Indian. They answered, " You are a fool. Do you think the French ai'e like the English, to say one thing and do ai;olher ? They are men of their words." I prevaiU'd with tlicm, however, to help me thither, and I spoke to the captain by an interpreter, and told him I desired him to set the Indian free, and told him what he had done for me, He told me he was a rogue, and should be hanged. Tlu.'n I spoke more privately, alledging this reiison, that because all the English captives were not come in, if be were hanged, it might fare the wors-e with them. The C!)ptain said " that was to be considered." Then he set him at liberty upon this condition, that h(i should never strike mo more, and every day bring me to his house to eat victuals. I perceived that the common people did not like what the Indians had done and did to the English. When the Indian wiis set free, he came to me, and took mo about the middle, and said I was his brother ; that I had saved his life once, iuid he had saved mine thrice. Then he called for brandy and made me drink, and had me away to the wigwams again. When I came tiicre, the Indians came to me one by one, to shake hands with mc, saying Wurregen Netop, and ,vere very kind, thinking no other but that I had saved the Indian's life. The next day he carried me to that captain's house, and set mo down.f They gave me ray victuals and wine, and being left there & while by the Indians, I showed the captmn my fingers, which, when he and his wife saw, they ran away from the sight, and bid mc lap it up again, and sent for the chirurgeon ; who, when he came, said he could cure me, and took it in hand, and dressed it. The Indians toward night came for mc ; I told them I could not go with them. They were dis- pleased, called mc rogue, and went away. That night I was full of pain; the French feared that I would die ; five men did watch with me, and strove to keep me cheerly, for I was sometimes ready to faint Oftentimes they gave me a little brandy. The next day the chinirgeon came again, and dressed me ; and so he did all the while I was *18 QUINTIN QTOOKWSLL'S CAPTIVITr. among the French. I came in nt Christmas, and went thcnco on tho HiTotid of May. Being tliiis in tiic captain's liousc, I was kept tliore till Benjamin Waito came ; and now my Indian master, being in want of money, pawned rac t(> the captain for fourteen beavers' skins, or tlie worth of them, at sucli a day ; if he did not pay, ho must lose his pawn, or else .sell me for twenty-one beavers, but ho could not get beaver, and so I was sold. By being thus sold, adds Dr". Mather, he was in Ood'a good time set at liberty, and returned to his friends in New England again. w >l NARRATIVE OF THE CATTIVITY PETER WILLIAMSON. I was born within ten miles of the town of AbciJcon, in tlie north of Scotliind, of ropulaWc parents. At eight yenrs of nf;(', being a sturfly boy, I was taken nutieo of by two fellows belonging to a vt ssel, employed (lis the tradi- then was) by some of the worthy merchants of Aberileen in tliat villanous and execrable practice of stealing young children from their parents, and selling them as slaves in the plantations abroud, and on board llie sliip I was easily cajoled by them, wli. re I was conducted between decks, to some others they had kidnapped in the same manner, and in about a month's time set sail for America When arrived at Phila- delphia, the eiiptain sold us at about sixteen pounds jier In ad What be- came of my unhappy companions I never knew ; but it was my lot to be sold for seven years, to one of my countrymen, who had in liis youth been kidnapped like myself, but from another town. Having no children of his own, and commiserating my condition, he took care of me, indulged me in goini^ to school, where I went e\cry win- ter for five years, and made a tolerable proficiency. With tliis good master I continued till he died, and, as a reward for my faithful service, he left me two hundred pounds currency, which was then about an hundred and twenty pounds sterling, his best horse, saddle, and all his wearing apparel. Being now seventeen years old, and my own master, having money in my pocket, and all other necessaries, I employed nijsclf in jobbing for near seven years ; when I resolved to settle, and married the daughter of a substantial planter. My father-in-law made me a deed of gift of a tract of land that lay (unhappily for me, as it has since proved) on the frontiers of the province of Pennsylvania, near the forks of Delaware, containing about two hundred acres, thirty of which were well cleared and £t for immediate use; on which wore a good house and bam. The place 480 CAPTIVITY or FETXR WILLIAMSON. plonsinf,' mo wo]], T scttlid on \t. My money T expended in buylnp; stock, IxiUKeliold I'lnniturc, and inipIcMients (or (Hit-ul (I. 1 Hew to my chamber window, and perceived them to be twelve in number. Having my gun loaded, 1 threatened them with death, if they did not retire. IJut how vain nnd fruitless are the efiorls of one man against the unit* d ft)rce of so many blood- thirsty monsters I One of them, that could speak Knglish, threatened mc in return, "That if I did not come out they would burn me alive," adding, however, "that if I Avould come out and surrender myself prisoner, they would not kill me." In such deplorable circumstances, I chose to rely on their promises, rather than meet death by rejecting them; and accordingly went out of the house, with my gun in my hand, not knowing thut I had it Immediately on my approach they rushed on me like tigers, and in- stantly disarmed nic. Having me thus in their power, they bound me to a tree, went into the house, plundered it of every thing they could carry off", and then set tire to it, and consumed what was left, before my eyes. Not satisfied with this, they set tire to my barn, stable, and out-houscs, wherein were about two hundred bushels of wheat, sLx cows, four horses, and Cve sheep, all of which wero consumed to ashes. Having thus finished the execrable business about which they came, one of the monsters come to mc with a tomahawk and threatened me with the worst of deaths if I woidd not go with them. This I agreed to, and then they untied mc, gave me a load to carry, under which I traveled all that night, full of the most terrible apprehensions, lest my unhappy wife should likewise have fallen into their cruel power. At daybreak my CAPT1VIT» OF PBTBR WILLIAMBON. 481 \'\t\(f stock, mid being ic Indiaiifl, r [Jiirls of ic frimticrs llf^' piU'ticH, daily com- J unlmiipy , it proved ri nil I'lisy cam(! on a sustain tlic jf October, ' relations ; •ing in the 'hen, about v\iigcs, and er window, n loaded, I \v viiin and nnny blood- [iatencd me !(.'," adding, isoner, they e to rely on accordingly that I had ers, and in- ictund me to could carry re my eyes, out-houscs, four horses^ they come, ■eatened me I agreed to, h I traveled ny unhappy laybreak my infernal nins((>r3 orderril me to lay down my load, when, tying my hand* again round a tj-ee, tiny fon c i the bl'iod , and roasted the meat, of which they bad robbed my dwelling. When they had supped, they offered some to mo ; though it may easily Iw imagiiunl I had but little appetite to cat, after the tortures and miseries I had sutl'ered, yet wa.s I forced to seem pleased with what they offered me, lest by refusing it they should re- sumo their hellish practices. What I could not oat I contrived to bide, they having unbound mc till they imagined I had eat all ; but then they bound me as before; in which deplorable condition I was forced to con- tinue the whole day. When the sun was set, they put out the lire, and covered the ashes with leaves, as is their usual custom, that the white people might not discover any traces of their having been there. Going from thence along the Susquehanna, for the space of six milea loaded as I was before, we arrived at a spot near the Apalacbian moun- tains, or Blue hills, where they hid their plunder under logs of wood. From thenco they proceeded to a neighboring house, occupied by one Jacob Snider and bis unhappy fainily, consisting of his wife, five children, and a young man his servant They soon got admittance into the unfor- tunate man's house, where they immediately, without the least remorse, scalped both parents and children ; nor could the tears, the shrieks, or cries of poor innocent children prevent their horrid massacre. Having thus scalped them, and plimdered the house of every thing that was mov- able, they set fire to it, and left the distressed victims amidst the flames Thinking the young man belonging to this unhappy family would be of service to them in carrying part of their phinder, they spared his life, 31 482 OAPIITITT OF PETER WILUAHSOV and loaded him and myself with what *hej had nere got, and again marched to the Blue hills, where they stowed their goods as before. My fellow suflFcrer could not support tlie cruel treatment which we were obliged to suflfer, and compUiining bitterly to me of his being unable to proceed any farther, I endeavored to animate him, but all in vain, for he still continued his moans and tears, Avliich one of the savages perceiving, as we traveled along, came up to us, and witli his tomahawk gave him a blow on the head, which felled the unhappy youth to the ground, whom ♦hey immediately scalped and left The suddenness of this murder shocked me to that degree, that I was in a manner motionless, expecting my fate would soon be the same: however, recovering my distracted thoughts, I dissembled my anguish as well as I could from the barbarians : but still, such was my terror, thai for some time I scarce knew the days of the week, or what I did. They still kept on their course near the mountains, where they lay skulking four or five days, rejoicing at the plunder they had got When provisions became scarce, they made their way toward Susquehanna, and passing near another house, inliabited by an old man, whose name was John Adams, with his wife and four small children, and meeting with no renstance, they immediately scalped the mother and her children before the old man's eyes. Inhuman and horrid as this was, it did not satisfy them; for when they had murdered the poor woman, they acted with her in such a brutal manner as decency will not permit me to mention. The unhappy husband, not being able to avoid the sight, entreated them to put an end to his miserable being ; but they were as deaf to the tears and entreaties of this venerable sufl'erer as they had been to those of the others, and proceeded to burn and destroy his house, barn, corn, hay, cattle, and every thing the poor man a few hours before was master of. Having saved what they thought proper from the flames, they gave the old man, feeble, weak, and in the miserable condition he then was, as well as myself, burdens to carry, and loading themselves likewise with bread and meat, pursued their journey toward the Great Swamp. Here they lay for eight or nine days, diverting themselves, at times, in barbarous cruelties on the old man: sometimes they would strip him naked, and paint him all over witli various sorts of colors; at other times they would pluck the white hairs from his head, and tauntingly tell him he was a fool for living so long, and that they would show him kindness in putting him out of the world. In vain were all his tears, for dailj' did they tire them- selves with the various means they tried to torment him ; sometimes tying him to a tree, and whipping him ; at other times, scorching his furrowed oheek with red hot ooaI% and burning his legs quite to the knees. One OAPnnrr or pnm wnxuiiBOir. 488 night, after he had been thus tormented, while he and I were condoling each other at the miseries we daily suffered, twenty-five other Indiana arrived, bringing with them twenty scalps and three prisoners, who had unhappily fallen into their hands in Conogocheague, a smai! town near the river Susquehanna, chiefly inhabited by the Irish. These prisoners have us some shocking accounts of the murders and devastations com- mitted in their parts ; a few instances of which will enable the reader to guess at the treatment the provincials have suffered for years past. This party who now joined us, had it not, I found, in tlieir power to begin their violences so soon as those who visited my habitation; the first of their tragedies being on the 25th of October, 1754, when John Lewis, with his wife and tliree small children, were inhumanly scalped and murdered, and his liouse, barn, and everj' thing ho possessed burnt and destroyed. On the 28th, Jacob Miller, with his wife and six of his family, with every thing on his plantations, shared the same fate. Tiie 30th, the house, mill, barn, twenty head of cattle, two teams of horses, and every thing belonging to George Foliie, met Avitli the like treatment, himseli, wife, and all his miserable family, consisting of nine in number, being scalped, then cut in pieces and given to the swine. One of the substan- tial traders, belonging to the province, having business that called him some miles up tli(i country, fiill into the hands of these ruffians, who not only scalped iiim, but immediati'ly roasted him before he was dead ; then, like cannibals, (or want of other food, eat his whole body, and of his head mad<', what tlvy called, an Indian pudcUng. From these few instances of sa\age cruelty, the deplorable situation of the defenseless inhabitants, and what they hourly suffered in that part of the globe, must strike the utmost horror, and cause in every breast the utmost detestation, not only cagainst the authors, but against those who, through inattention, or pusillanimous or erroneous principles, suffered these savages at lirst, unrepellcd, or even unmolested, to commit such outrages, de[)redations and murders. The three prisoners that were brought with these additional forces, constantly repining at their lot, and almost dead with their excessive hard treatment, contrived at last to make their escape : but being far from their own settlements, and not knowing the country, were soon after met by some others of the tribes or nations at war with us and brought back. The poor creatures, almost famished for want of sustenance, having had none during the time of their escape, were no sooner in the power of the barbarians than two of them were tied to a tree, and a great fire made round tliem, where they remained till they were terribly scorched and burnt; when one of the villains with his scalpin^r knif ripped open their OAWIVm OF PKTKH WTUUUSOK. be others were cutting. P-« ^^fJ^Hill they were dead. The third hands, arms and legs. ..th f;^^^^^^^ j,„/, to be. if poB^b e. sa. unhappy victim was reserved a f w h .^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^ ^ rificod in a more cruel ™-"- f^ J^ ,,,,, upright, ho was put mto . hole being dug deep ^^^^fJ^^^ZuounA his body up i. 1- neck, so it, and earth rammed and be^ m al ^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^„, ^d tt his head only :^PP;-^;;^^^^^^^ ,;.s in the greatest agomes there let him remam for thr e or t ^^^^.^^ ^^^ ^, ff,, after which thoy made a smul C:e mar ^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^,^ the most excruciating ^--^"^^;.I^^ff,, h' brains were boiling m h.s or mercy by killing '"-/^^^ therco'^tinued the tire till h.s eyes W. Inexorable to all he ^ M _ ^^^^^^ ^\''\^Jl gushed out of their sockets. ^^^^^^^^ ,^;^,, quite dead. They then feature suficr for near ^^voj'?"'^^ ^^ ^ ^^^^^ bodies; my task being to - -^ ^' ''''':::^:^^^ - ^ - ^« ^^-^ -' *'"^ diir the graves; ^v men, i*.-- the same fate onabkd me to do. ^^^^^^^^ i,,t the white ''a great .now now falling, the ^^^ ,,,,,,,, ..treats, which pe^/e should, by UKir tracks, imd u th ^^ ^^^^. ^. ^^^^. obliled them t. make the best ^^ ^^^ J^ ^,„tations or inhabitants; lut two hundred miles favth. fr m -y P ^ ^^^^.^,^,^ , ..ed with After a long and pain ul I'-n^^y^^^^^^^ ,^„,a a number of wigwam ^ _ , ..,,-..0+ MnminQ'O. incrc A ,.u,^„* no- were Alter (* *^*'^ '"' 1 «„i„f„„aio«w..A.«™ns>. ere 1 louuu ^ "^ tins mien... ^^ , .„ T3..„cin-, singing and shoutmg were M of their women and chil ren D non^ ^^ ^,^, ,,,ees they heir general amusements. ^^ rf^l,^,.., damages they have sus- elate'what -cc-s they have h^ and wl^ ^^^^ ,,.,.„,e a part tained in their expeditions; m ^^h cU ^,^^,^. ^^,.^ ^ ^e of their theme. The seventy ot he c ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^,jy :; :, eloUies .. their 0^1 - ^ ^^:;, .^r of moccasons, or shoes, themselves, being a V-^^^"^^^, ^e instead of breeches. „Uh a yard of coarse cloth, to pu^.o ., ,,^, ,,ow was off th^ At Alamingo, 1 remamed near U ^^ ^^^^^.^^^ ^^ ^,,,,pe to „ound. Whatever thoughts 1 mig >> ^^ ^^^^. ^^^,^ ,„y plan- fa ; them into execution ^^ J^^ ^^ ^ rendering my limbs ma Ttions or white people, and the severe w ^^^ .^^^ ^^ ^^^^,^^^ ^ Slner ,uite stiff and -^^^^^"^ .veil as 1 could, by making oAFnvmr op -pBrrER wntiAMSoir. 485 , -wlule )reast8, c tbird lie, sac- dy, and )ut into neck, so um, and agonies; to suffer only cry io- in bis his eyes unhappy Chey then : being to f suffering the -white Jilts, which r quarters, inhabitants; iriived with )f -wigwams outing were Jancea they .y have SUB- came a part stripped me usually wore ons, or shoes, jcbcs. V was off the ny escape, to :om any plan- ,ny limbs in a defend myself .Id, by making g it with earth, ets of the cold, jing about was indeed, more than I could have expected, but they well knew the im- practicability of my escaping from them. Seeing me outwardly easy and submis-sive, they would sometimes give me a little meat, but my chief food wfi-s Indian corn. At length the time came wlien they were preparing themselves for another expedition against the jjlanters and white people ; but before they set out, they were joined by many other Indians. As soon ;is the snow was quie gone, they set forth on their journey toward the back parts of the province of Pennsylvania; all leaving their wives and children behind in their wigwams. They were now a formi- dable body, amounting to near one bundled and fifty. My business wau to carry what they tliought proper to load mc Avitli, but they never en- trusted me with a gun. We marched on several days without any tiling particular occurring, almost famished for want of provisions; for my part, I had nothing but a few stalks of Indian corn, which I was glad to eat dry; nor did the Indians themselves fare much better, for as we drew near the plantations tliey were afi'aid to kill any game, lest the noise of their guns sliould ahirm the inhabitants. When we again arrived at the Blue hills, about tliirty miles from the Irish settlements before mentioned, Ave encamped for three days, though God kno\\ s we had neither tents nor any thing else to defend us from the inclemency of the air, having nothing to lie on by night but the grass; their usual method of lodging, pitching, or encamping, by night, being in parcels of ten or iwehe men to a fire, where they lie upon the grass or brush wrapped up in a blanket, with their feet to the fire. During our stay here, a sort of council of war was held, when it waa agreed to divide themselves into companies of about twenty men each; after which every captain marched with his party where he thought proper. I still belonged to my old masters, but was left behind on the mountiuns Avith ten Indians, to stay till the rest should return; not thinking it proper to carry me nearer to Conogocheague, or the other plantations. Here I began to meditate an escape, and though I knew the country round extrem(>ly well, yet I was A'ery cautious of giving the least suspi- cion of any such intention. However, the third day after the grand body left, my companions thought proper to traverse the mountains in search of game for their sustenance, leaving me bound in such a manner that I could not escape. At niglit, when they returned, having unbound me, Ave all sat doAvn together to supper on Avhat they had killed, and soon after (being greatly fatigued Avith their day's excursion) they composed them- selves to rest, as usual. I now tried various ways to try whether it was a miiimmS^liSKSS^ OAi>TiynT or fetbr wuxiahbov. scheme to prove my intentions or not; but after making a noise and walking about^ sometimes touching them with my feet, I found there was no fallacy. Then I resolved, if possible, to get one of their guns, and, if discovered, to die in my defense, rather than be taken. For that pur- pose I made various efforts to get one from under their heads, (where they always secured them,) but in viiin. Disappointed in this, 1 began to despair of carrying my design into execution ; yet, after a little recollec- tion, and trusting myself to the divine protection, I set forward, naked and defenseless as I was. Such was my terror, however, that in going from them I halted, and paused every four or five yards, looking fearfully toward the spot wh(!re I had left them, lest they should awake and misa me ; but when I was two hundred yards from them, I mended my pace, and made as much haste as I possibly could to the foot of the mountains; when, on a sudden, I was struck with the greatest terror at hearing the wood cry, as it is called, which the savages I had left were making upon missing their charge. The more my terror increased the faster I pushed on, and scarce knowing where I trod, drove through the woods with the utmost precipitation, sometimes falling and bruising myself, cutting my feet and legs against the stones in a miserable manner. But faint and maimed as I was, I cor tinned my flight till daybreak, when, without hav- ing any thing to sustain nature but a little corn left, I crept into a hollow tree, where 1 lay very snug, and returned my prayers and thanks to the divine Being that had thus far favored my escape. But my repose was in a few hours destroyed at hearing the voices of the savages near the place where I was hid, threatening and talking how they would use me if they got me again. However, they at last left the spot where I heard them, and I remained in my apartment all that dj)es in vain, (jr the efforts I made uieflectual. Suffice to say, that I reached the wood ; but by tlie time I had penetrated a little way into i*, my breath wjis so exliausted that I threw my.self into a break, and liiy for some minutes apparently at the last gaso. At length I recovered the j)ower of respiration ; but my apprehei^-^ions returned with all their former force, when 1 saw several savages ])ap'i by, probably in pursuit of me, at no very great distance. In this situation 1 knew not whellier it w;uj better to proceed, or endeavor to conceal myself where I lay till niglit came uii ; fearing, however, that they would return the same way, I thougiit it most jjrudent to get further from the dreadful scene of my distresses. Accordingly, striking into another part of tlie wood, I hastened on as f;L«t as the briers and the loss of one of my shoes would permit me ; and after a slow progress of s< me liours, gained a hill that overlcMjked the plain which I had just loft, from whence I could discern that the bloody storm still raged with unabated fury. But, not to tire my readeis, I shall only add, that after par,sing three days without subsistence, and enduring the severity of the cold dews for tliree nights, I at length reached fort Edward; where, with proper care my b(xly soim recovered its wonted strengtli, and my mind, as fiir ns the recollection of the late melancholy events would permit, its usual composure. It was computed that fifteen hundred persons were killed or made prisoners by these savages during this fatal day. Many of the latter were carried off by them and never returned. A few, through favorable accidents, found their way back to their native country, after having experienced a long and severe captivity. The brave CoL Monro had hastened away, soon after the confusion began, to the French camp, to endeavor to procure the guard agreed by the stipulation ; but his application proving inefiectual, he remained there till General Webb sent a party of troops to demand and protect him back to fort Edward. But these unhappy occurrences, which would probably have been prevented had he been left to pursue liis own plans, together with the loss of bo many brave fellows, murdered in cold blood, to whose (ralor be had been so lately a witness, made such an impression on his OAPTITITT Of CAPTAIS CARVER. 403 mind that he did not long survive. IIo died in about three months, of a broken licart, and with truth miglit it bo said, tliat he wa-s an honor to his country. I nu'fin not to point out iho f(jll()\ving circumstance as the immediate judgment of Heaven, and intended as an atitnemtmt fur tliis slaugliter, but I caimot omit that very few of those dillerent tribes of Indians that shared in it ever lived to return home. Tiie small-pox, by means of tlieir communication with the Eurojx'jins, found its way among tliem, and made an ecjual havoc to what tliey iheniselves had done. The metJKjds they pursued on the first attack of tliat malignant disonler, to abate the fever attef.ding it, rendered it fatal. Wliil(! their blood was in a state of fermentation, and nature was striving to throw out the peccant matter, they checked her operations by plunging into the water; the conseiiuenoe was that they died by hundreds. The few that survived, were trans- formed by it into hideous objects, and b(jro with them to the grave deep indented marks of this much dreaded disease. Monsieur Montcalm fell soon after on the plidna of Quebec. That the unprovoked cruelty of this commander was not approved of by the generality of his countrymen, I have since been convinced of by many proofs. Only one, however, wiiich I received from a person who was witness to it, sludl I at present give. A (.'anndian merchant, of some consideration, liaving heard of the surrender of the English fort, cele- brated the fortunate event with great rejoicings and hospitality, according to the custom of that country; but no sooner did the news of the mas- sacre which ensued reach his ears, than he put an immediate stop to the festivities, and exclaimed in the severest terms against the inhumaa permission ; declaring at the same time that those who had connived at it liad thereby drawn down on that part of their king's dominions the veno-eance of Heaven. To this he added, that he much feared the total loss of them, would deservedly be the consequence. How truly this prediction has been verified, we well know. f^i.. NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY or MRS. SCOTT. Mrs. Scott, a resident of Washington county, Virginia, was taken captive by Indians on the night of the twenty-ninth of June, 1786. Her husband and nil her childron were slain ; and before morning she was forced to commence her march through the wilderness. On the eleventh day of her captivity, while in charge of four Indians, provision becoming scarce, a halt was made, and lhrt!0 of the number went on a hunting e.\cursion. Being left in the care of an old man, she made liim beheve she was reconciled to her condition, and thus threw him off his guard. Anxious to escape, and having matured her plans, nhe asked him, in the most disinterested manner possible, to let her go to « small stream, near by, and wash her apron, which wius besmeared with the blood of one of her children. He gave her leave, and while he was busy in " graining a deer-skin," she started off. Arriving at the stream, without a moment's hesitation, she pushed on in the direction of a moun- tain. Traveling till late at night, she came into a valley where she hoped to find the track along which she had been taken by her captors, and thereby be able to retrace her steps. Hurrying across the valley to the margin of a river, which she supposed must be the eastern branch of the Kentucky, she discovered in the sand the tracks of two men who had followed the stream upward and returned. Thinking them to be the prints of pursuers, and that they had returned from the search, she took courage, thanked God, and was prepared to continue her flight On the third day she came very near falling into the hands of savages, a company whom she supposed had been sent to Clinch river on a pilfer- ing excursion. Hearing their approach before they came in sights she concealed herself, and they passed without noticing her. She now became greatly alarmed, and was so bewildered as to lose her way and to vander at random for several day& MM. soorr'i oArnnnr. 408 At lenfi^h, coming to a stream that ncemed to flow from the eaat, she •oncludiid it must bo Handy river ; and resolving to trace it to it* source, which was near a ncttlemont where she waa acquainted, she pushed on for several days, till she came into mountainous rogionn and to craggj ■tecps. There, in the vicinity of a " prodigious waterfall," Hhe was forred to leap from a precipice, upon some rocks, and wits ho stunned as to be oblig(!d to make a short delay in her journey. Soon after pucsing through the mountain, (Laurel mountain,) she was bitten bj A snake which she supposed was venomous. She killed it, and expected her turn to die would como next; but the only injury she received was some pain and the slight swelling of one foot A writer, whose narration we follow, and whose facts are more reliable than his philo- sophy, thinks that, being "reduced to a mere skeleton, with fatigue, hunger and grief," she wjis probably, on that account, " saved from the effects of the poisonous fangs." Leaving the river, Mrs. Scott came to a forked valley, and watcliing the flight of bird.s, took the br.mch they did, and in two days came in sight of New Garden, the settlement on Clinch river, before referred to. Thus, after wandering in the wilderness fur six long weeks, almost destitute ef clothing, without a weapon of defense or instrument for obtaining pro- vision; exposed to wild beasts and mcniless su vagus; subsisting a full month on the juice of young cane stalks, so-ssafras leaves and similar food, looking to God in prayer for guidance by day, and for jirotection by nightt shielded from serious harm, nnd led by an unseen Hand, on the eleventh of August, the wanderings of the widowed and cjiiitiless captive were brought to a close. J. C. TIIK KVl).