Indian—For this year, brother, I will exchange my skins; in the next, I shall provide apparel more befitting a warrior. One pack alone I will reserve, to dress for a future occasion. The summer must not find a warrior idle.
The terms being adjusted, and the bargain concluded, the trader thus shows his gratitude for liberal dealing.
Trader—Corlaer has forbid bringing scaura to steal away the wisdom of the warriors; but we white men are weak and cold; we bring kegs for ourselves, lest death arise from the swamps. We will not sell scaura, but you shall taste some of ours in return for the venison with which you have feasted us.
Indian—Brother, we will drink moderately.
A bottle was then given to the warrior, by way of present, which he was advised to keep long, but found it irresistible. He soon returned with the reserved pack of skins, earnestly urging the trader to give him beads, silver brooches, and above all, scaura, to their full amount. This, with much affected reluctance at parting with the private stock, was at last yielded. The warriors now, after giving loose for a while to frantic mirth, began the war-whoop, made the woods resound with infuriated howlings; and having exhausted their dear-bought draught, probably determined, in contempt of that probity, which at all other times they rigidly observed, to plunder the instruments of their pernicious gratification. He, well aware of the consequences, took care to remove himself and his goods to some other place, and a renewal of the same scene ensued. Where, all this time, were the women, whose gentle counsels might have prevented these excesses? Alas! unrestrained by that delicacy which is certainly one of the best fruits of refinement, they shared in them, and sunk sooner under them. A long and deep sleep generally succeeded, from which they awoke in a state of dejection and chagrin, such as no Indian had ever experienced under any other circumstances. They felt as Milton describes Adam and Eve to have done after their transgression. Exhausted and forlorn, and stung with the consciousness of error and dependence, they had neither the means nor the desire of exercising their wonted summer occupations with spirit. Vacancy produced languor, and languor made them wish for the potion which gave temporary cheerfulness.[[9]] They carried their fish to the next fort or habitation to barter for rum. This brought on days of frenzy, succeeded by torpor. When again roused by want of exertion, they saw the season passing without the usual provision, and by an effort of persevering industry, tried to make up for past negligence; and then worn out by exertion, sunk into supine indolence, till the approach of winter called them to hunt the bear; and the arrival of that, (their busy season,) urged on their distant excursions in pursuit of deer. Then they resumed their wonted character, and became what they used to be; but conscious that acquired tastes and wants, which they had not themselves the power of supplying, would throw them again on the traders for clothing, &c. they were themselves out-straining every sinew to procure enough of peltry to answer their purpose, and to gratify their newly-acquired appetites. Thus the energy, both of their characters and constitutions, was gradually undermined—and their numbers as effectually diminished, as if they had been wasted by war.
[9]. From Peter Schuyler, brother to the colonel, I have heard many such details.
The small-pox was also so fatal to them, that whole tribes on the upper lakes have been entirely extinguished by it. Those people being in the habit of using all possible means of closing the pores of the skin, by painting and anointing themselves with bears’ grease, to defend them against the extremity of cold, to which their manner of life exposed them; and not being habitually subject to any cutaneous disease, the small-pox rarely rises upon them; from which it may be understood how little chance they had of recovering. All this I heard aunt Schuyler relate, whose observations and reflections I merely detail.
CHAP. XXVI.
Peculiar attractions of the Indian mode of life—Account of a settler who