The Conquest of Canada, Vol. 1

by George Warburton

CHAPTER VII.

The Indian is endowed with a far greater acuteness of sense than the European. Despite the dazzling brightness of the long-continued snows, and the injurious action of the smoke of burning wood to which he is constantly exposed, he possesses extraordinary quickness of sight. He can also hear and distinguish the faintest sounds, alike through the gentle rustling of the forest leaves and in the roar of the storm; his power of smell is so delicate that he scents fire long before it becomes visible. By some peculiar instinct the Indian steers through the trackless forests, over the vast prairies, and even across wide sheets of water with unerring certainty. Under the gloomiest and most obscure sky, he can follow the course of the sun[238] as if directed by a compass. These powers would seem innate in this mysterious race; they can scarcely be the fruit of observation or practice, for children who have never left their native village can direct their course through pathless solitudes as accurately as the experienced hunter.

In the early stages of social progress, when the life of man is rude and simple, the reason is little exercised, and his wants and wishes are limited within narrow bounds; consequently, his intellect is feebly developed, and his emotions are few but concentrated. These conditions were generally observable among the rudest tribes of the American Indians.

There are, however, some very striking peculiarities in the intellectual character of the Red Men. Without any aid from letters or education, some of the lower mental faculties are developed in a remarkable degree. As orators, strategists, and politicians, they have frequently exhibited very great power.[240] They are constantly engaged in dangerous and difficult enterprises, where ingenuity and presence of mind are essential for their preservation. They are vigorous in the thought which is allied to action, but altogether incapable of speculation, deduction, or research. The ideas and attention of a savage are confined to the objects relating to his subsistence, safety, or indulgence: every thing else escapes his observation or excites little interest in his mind. Many tribes appear to make no arrangement for the future; neither care nor forethought prevents them from blindly following a present impulse, regardless of its consequences.

The natives of North America were divided into a number of small communities; in the relation of these to each other, war or negotiation was constantly carried on; revolutions, conquests, and alliances frequently occurred among them. To raise the power of his tribe, and to weaken or destroy that of his enemy, was the great aim of every Indian. For these objects schemes were profoundly laid, and deeds of daring valor achieved: the refinements of diplomacy were employed, and plans arranged with the most accurate calculation. These peculiar circumstances also developed the power of oratory to an extraordinary degree.[241] Upon all occasions of importance, speeches were delivered with eloquence, and heard with deep attention. When danger threatened, or opportunity of aggrandizement or revenge offered itself, a council of the tribe was called, where those most venerable from age and illustrious for wisdom deliberated for the public good. The composition of the Indian orator is studied and elaborate; the language is vigorous, and, at the same time, highly imaginative; all ideas are expressed by figures addressed to the senses; the sun and stars, mountains and rivers, lakes and forests, hatchets of war and pipes of peace, fire and water, are employed as illustrations of his subject with almost Oriental art and richness. His eloquence is unassisted by action or varied intonation, but his earnestness excites the sympathy of the audience, and his persuasion sinks into their hearts.[242]

The want of any written or hieroglyphic records of the past among the Northern Indians was, to some extent, supplied by the accurate memories of their old men; they were able to repeat speeches of four or five hours' duration, and delivered many years before, without error or even hesitation, and to hand them down from generation to generation with equal accuracy, their recollection being only assisted by small pieces of wood corresponding to the different subjects of discourse. On great and solemn occasions, belts of wampum were used as aid to recollection whenever a conference was held with a neighboring tribe, or a treaty or compact is negotiated. One of these belts, differing in some respects from any other hitherto used, was made for the occasion; each person who speaks holds this in his hand by turns, and all he says is recorded in the "living books" of the by-standers' memory in connection with the belt. When the conference ends, this memorial is deposited in the hands of the principal chief. As soon as any important treaty is ratified, a broad wampum belt of unusual splendor is given by each contracting party to the other, and these tokens are deposited among the other belts, that form, as it were, the archives of the nation. At stated intervals they are reproduced before the people, and the events which they commemorate are circumstantially recalled. Certain of the Indian women are intrusted with the care of these belts: it is their duty to relate to the children of the tribe the circumstances of each treaty or conference, and thus is kept alive the remembrance of every important event.

On the matters falling within his limited comprehension, the Indian often displays a correct and solid judgment; he pursues his object without hesitation or diversion. He is quickly perceptive of simple facts or ideas, but any artificial combination, or mechanical contrivance he is slow to comprehend, especially as he considers every thing beneath his notice which is not necessary to his advantage or enjoyment. It is very difficult to engage him in any labor of a purely mental character, but he often displays vivacity and ardor in matters that interest him, and is frequently quick and happy in repartee.[243]

The Red Man is usually characterized by a certain savage elevation of soul and calm self-possession, that all the aid of religion and philosophy can not enable his civilized brethren to surpass. Master of his emotions, the expression of his countenance rarely alters for a moment even under the most severe and sudden trials. The prisoner, uncertain as to the fate that may befall him, preparing for his dreadful death, or racked by agonizing tortures, still raises his unfaltering voice in the death song, and turns a fearless front toward his tormentors.[245]

The art of numbering was unknown in some American tribes, and even among the most advanced it was very imperfect; the savage had no property to estimate, no coins to count, no variety of ideas to enumerate. Many nations could not reckon above three, and had no words in their language to distinguish a greater number; some proceeded as far as ten, others to twenty; when they desired to convey an idea of a larger amount, they pointed to the hair of the head, or declared that it could not be counted. Computation is a mystery to all rude nations; when, however, they acquire the knowledge of a number of objects, and find the necessity of combining or dividing them, their acquaintance with arithmetic increases; the state of this art is therefore, to a considerable extent, a criterion of their degree of progress. The wise and politic Iroquois had advanced the farthest, but even they had not got beyond one thousand; the smaller tribes seldom reached above ten.

The first ideas are suggested to the mind of man by the senses: the Indian acquires no other. The objects around him are all important; if they be available for his present purposes, they attract his attention, otherwise they excite no curiosity: he neither combines nor arranges them, nor does he examine the operations of his own mind upon them; he has no abstract or universal ideas, and his reasoning powers are generally employed upon matters merely obvious to the senses. In the languages of the ruder tribes there were no words to express any thing that is not material, such as faith, time, imagination, and the like. When the mind of the savage is not occupied with matters relating to his animal existence, it is altogether inactive. In the islands, and upon the exuberant plains of the south, where little exertion of ingenuity was required to obtain the necessaries of life, the rational faculties were frequently dormant, and the countenance remained vacant and inexpressive. Even the superior races of the north loiter away their time in thoughtless indolence, when not engaged in war or the chase, deeming other objects unworthy of their consideration. Where reason is so limited in a field for exertion, the mind can hardly acquire any considerable degree of vigor or enlargement. In civilized life men are urged to activity and perseverance by a desire to gratify numerous artificial wants; but the necessities of the Indian are few, and provided for by nature almost spontaneously. He detests labor, and will sometimes sit for whole days together without uttering a word or changing his posture. Neither the hope of reward nor the prospect of future want can overcome this inveterate indolence.