The White Chief of the Ottawa

by Bertha Carr-Harris

These articles all being exposed, and the stem of the pipe arranged upon two forks so as not to touch the ground, Machecawa motioned to his white brother to sit down opposite to him. The pipe was then filled and attached to the stem. A pair of wooden pinchers was provided to put fire into it. All arrangements having been completed, the Indians gathered round in a circle, awe and solemnity pervading all, while a subordinate chief, O'Jawescawa, took up the pipe, lighted it, and presented it to Machecawa, who received it standing and held it between both hands. He then turned to the east and drew a few whiffs which he blew to that point. The same ceremony was performed to the other three quarters, with his eyes directed upward during the whole of it. Then holding the stem about the middle between the three first fingers of both hands, and raising them upon a line with his forehead, he swung it three times round from the east with the sun, when, after pointing and balancing it in various directions, he laid it upon the forks. He then made a speech acknowledging past mercies and expressing the confidence that the blessing of peace would attend all their dealings with the stranger, upon whom he would now confer the title of "Wabisca Onodis," the White Chief.

He then sat down, while the whole company declared their approbation and thanks by uttering the word "Ho," with an emphatic prolongation of the last letter.

O'Jawescawa then took up the pipe and held it to the mouth of Machecawa, who, after smoking three whiffs out of it, uttered a short prayer and then went round with it, taking his course from east to west, to every man present, both Indians and white men, who could confidently affirm that they entertained no grudge against any of the assembled party, until the pipe was smoked out, when, after turning it three or four times round his head, he dropped it downwards and replaced it in its original position.

Machecawa then approached the stranger and the little band who were with him and uttered a short guttural sound, which the interpreter said meant, "Come and eat."

To refuse would be a grave offence, so the invitation was accepted by all, who followed the Big Chief through a narrow and winding path, which led to a small lake midway between the Gatineau River and the Chaudiere Falls. They arranged themselves in front of a number of huts made of bent boughs, some of which were covered with bark and some with deerskin, securely sewed and stretched tight as a drum. Following the example of the Indians they squatted on the ground in a circle.

Surrounded by a chattering group of squaws sat Newitchewagan, the wife of the Chief, with a child between her knees, while she hunted through the jungle of his hair with destroying thumb and finger. One old squaw, who was kneeling under a tree rubbing and twisting a moccasin between her hands, paused to fill her mouth with water, which she spurted in repeated jets over the moccasin. A little papoose, strapped to a flat piece of wood about three feet long spread with soft moss, was suspended to a branch of a tree. It crowed and laughed quite merrily as it was swayed to and fro by the cold wind. While the feast was in course of preparation the new Chief and his friends were entertained by songs of a most melancholy nature.

It was a strange scene that presented itself that cold and frosty evening in March. The snow-drifts were covered with a crust of frozen sleet, which crunched beneath the tread of moccasined feet. The bare branches of the maples were encased in ice, with long icicles attached, which glistened and reflected like a prism the rays of the setting sun. Small troughs of basswood, hollowed out in the middle by burning, stood at the trunk of almost every tree to catch the sap, which had ceased to run for several days owing to the "cold snap" which had taken place in the weather.

"How do you make sugar without pots?" asked the new Chief of the interpreter.

Pointing to a green hardwood stump he explained, in broken English, that the squaws burned a deep hole in the centre, into which they poured the sap which they had gathered. Stones heated on the fire were then dropped into the wooden cauldron, which caused the sap to boil. This operation was repeated until it was reduced to sugar.

There was little variation in the dress of the grotesque figures gathered round the fire. All had strips of deerskin tightly bound round their legs instead of trousers, and which were never removed unless to replace with new ones. Two aprons, one behind and one before, were fastened around their waist by girdles. Short shirts made of skin were fastened at the neck and arms, and were removed while portaging or paddling. They had very little hair—only a tuft on the top of the head, which was stuck full of feathers, wings and shells. Not a man among them could boast of a beard. The squaws were dressed in much the same fashion, except that the aprons were a trifle longer than those worn by the men, and their coarse black hair floated in the breeze.