A lecture of this description, to women elated with victory, is not always received in the same conciliatory disposition with that which dictated the advice; but sometimes results in another quarrel, which is terminated by the administration of a few blows on the persons of his refractory squaws. These will then depart from his lodge, declaring their determination to live with him no longer; a resolution which, however, fails with their anger, and they seek a reconciliation. Their friends apply to the husband in {211} their favour, and are informed that he was angry when he flogged them, and that he is now sorry for it. Thus matters are with but little difficulty adjusted; the wives return home, and are harangued by the husband, after which they proceed harmoniously together in their domestic employments, until some new feud arises to disturb the repose of the family.
On the general hunting expeditions, in which the nation separates into distinct bands, the husband takes with him his favourite wife, whilst the others accompany the bands in which are their parents. Sometimes, during a temporary encampment, the husband leaves his favourite for a few days, on pretence of business, in order to visit one of his wives in another band. On his return, he perceives the brow of his favourite to lower with evident displeasure; if his dog approaches her, she knocks him over with a club, and her child is repulsed with violence from her side; she kicks the fire about, pulls about the bed, and exhibits other signs of anger. The husband affects not to notice her inquietude, but suffers her to proceed in her own way, until the violence of her anger appears to be in some measure dissipated; he will then, perhaps, venture to request her to repair his mockasins for the morrow's hunt. "Take them to your dear wife in the other band," will most probably be the reply to his solicitation.
Such is sometimes the violence of the displeasure of his squaw, that he is obliged, through prudential motives, to take refuge in a neighbouring lodge, where he solaces himself with the pipe, until he supposes there is no longer danger of being provoked beyond endurance, so as to be tempted to chastise her; a discipline which she seems rather to solicit than avoid, that she may have a sufficient excuse for wreaking her vengeance on her rival, and for giving free vent to her sentiments and opinions upon her husband, in language of the most superlatively indecent and opprobrious nature.
{212} When he retires to repose, he invites her to his bed, but receives a positive refusal: she rolls herself in her covering alone; but generally, during the night, she becomes pacific, and a negociation ensues, which restores harmony between them.
The far greater portion of their matrimonial quarrels arise from jealousy, though many affect to treat this passion with ridicule, or with indifference.
"Were you ever jealous?" said Sans Oreille,[2] an Oto chief, to Mr. Dougherty; "I was once fool enough to be jealous, but the passion did not long torment me; I recollected that women are often alone, their husband being necessarily often absent a hunting, and even when the husband is at home, the squaw is under the necessity of going to a distance for the purpose of bringing water, or collecting wood, when frequent opportunities occur of being unobserved in the company of other men; and I am not so silly as to believe that a woman would reject a timely offer. Even this squaw of mine, who sits by my side, would, I have no doubt, kindly accede to the opportune solicitations of a young, handsome, and brave suitor." His squaw laughed heartily, but did not affect to repel the imputation.
Many husbands will take no cognizance whatever of the breach of conjugal fidelity on the part of the wife; and the offer of one of their wives for company during the night, though it might call upon our politeness for a return of thanks, was no cause of surprise to us during our stay at their villages.[3]
A husband of a different temperament of mind, on detecting his wife in an adulterous act, will rarely endeavour to maim her paramour, or otherwise seriously injure him by killing his horses or dogs; but {213} his attention will be chiefly or exclusively directed to his wife, whom he punishes by cutting off her hair, rarely her ears or nose; sometimes he resorts to a different punishment, and scarifies her face and head with his knife, after which she is repudiated, and becomes a common prostitute.
An inexorable man, thus circumstanced, has been known to abandon his frail partner, after subjecting her to a punishment very similar to that inflicted on the incontinent Roman matron, under the authority of the Emperors.[4]
Mr. Dougherty, being in Ong-pa-ton-ga's lodge, heard the loud voice of supplication from an unhappy father, whose daughter had been recently taken in adultery by her husband. "O, great Ong-pa-ton-ga!" said he, "whose nose is like that of a mule, and who art greater than the Wahconda himself, condescend to intercede for my daughter with her cruel husband; do not permit her face to be disfigured, her nose to be cut off, or the disgrace of the punishment of the prairie to be inflicted upon her."