History, Manners, and Customs of the Indian Nations Who Once Inhabited Pennsylvania and the Neighbouring States.

by John Gottlieb Ernestus Heckewelder

So far Mr. Pyrlæus. From these traditions of the Iroquois, and those of the Delawares and Mohicans, it seems to follow that they must have considered their numbers very small, when they dwelt in the earth; perhaps, no more than one family of each tribe, and that the custom of giving to their tribes the names of particular animals, must have been very ancient. The ground-hog, say the Mohawks, would not come out. But who was this hog? Might it not formerly have been the name of one of their tribes, who was made the subject of this fable?

However ridiculous these stories are, the belief of the Indians in them is not to be shaken. When I was a boy between twelve and fifteen years of age, I had often heard of white people conversant with the Indians, who at that time would continually come to this place, (Bethlehem) in great numbers, even by hundreds, that the Indians did not eat rabbits, because they thought them infected with the venereal disease, and that whoever ate of their flesh, was sure to take that disorder. Being then myself fond of catching those animals in traps, I asked questions on this subject of several Mohican Indians, who spoke the German language; but though they said nothing about the disease that rabbits were said to be infected with, yet they advised me by no means to eat of their flesh. They gave me no reason whatever to induce me to abstain from this food; but afterwards, in the year 1762, when I resided at Tuscorawas on the Muskingum, I was told by some of them, that there were some animals which Indians did not eat, and among them were the rabbit and the ground-hog; for, said they, they did not know but that they might be related to them!

I found also that the Indians, for a similar reason, paid great respect to the rattle-snake, whom they called their grandfather, and would on no account destroy him. One day, as I was walking with an elderly Indian on the banks of the Muskingum, I saw a large rattle-snake lying across the path, which I was going to kill. The Indian immediately forbade my doing so; “for,” said he, “the rattle-snake is grandfather to the Indians, and is placed here on purpose to guard us, and to give us notice of impending danger by his rattle, which is the same as if he were to tell us ‘look about!’ Now,” added he, “if we were to kill one of those, the others would soon know it, and the whole race would rise upon us and bite us.” I observed to him that the white people were not afraid of this; for they killed all the rattle-snakes that they met with. On this he enquired whether any white man had been bitten by these animals, and of course I answered in the affirmative. “No wonder, then!” replied he, “you have to blame yourselves for that! you did as much as declaring war against them, and you will find them in your country, where they will not fail to make frequent incursions. They are a very dangerous enemy; take care you do not irritate them in our country; they and their grandchildren are on good terms, and neither will hurt the other.”

These ancient notions have, however in a great measure died away with the last generation, and the Indians at present kill their grandfather the rattle-snake without ceremony, whenever they meet with him.

That the Indians, from the earliest times, considered themselves in a manner connected with certain animals, is evident from various customs still preserved among them, and from the names of those animals which they have collectively, as well as individually, assumed. It might, indeed, be supposed that those animals’ names which they have given to their several tribes were mere badges of distinction, or “coats of arms” as Pyrlæus calls them; but if we pay attention to the reasons which they give for those denominations, the idea of a supposed family connexion is easily discernible. The Tortoise, or as it is commonly called, the Turtle tribe, among the Lenape, claims a superiority and ascendency over the others, because their relation, the great Tortoise, a fabled monster, the Atlas of their mythology, bears according to their traditions this great island on his back, and also because he is amphibious, and can live both on land and in the water, which neither of the heads of the other tribes can do. The merits of the Turkey, which gives its name to the second tribe, are that he is stationary, and always remains with or about them. As to the Wolf, after whom the third tribe is named, he is a rambler by nature, running from one place to another in quest of his prey; yet they consider him as their benefactor, as it was by his means that the Indians got out of the interior of the earth. It was he, they believe, who by the appointment of the Great Spirit, killed the deer whom the Monsey found who first discovered the way to the surface of the earth, and which allured them to come out of their damp and dark residence. For that reason, the wolf is to be honoured, and his name preserved for ever among them. Such are their traditions, as they were related to me by an old man of this tribe more than fifty years ago.

These animals’ names, it is true, they all use as national badges, in order to distinguish their tribes from each other at home and abroad. In this point of view Mr. Pyrlæus was right in considering them as “coats of arms.” The Turtle warrior draws either with a coal or paint here and there on the trees along the war path, the whole animal carrying a gun with the muzzle projecting forward, and if he leaves a mark at the place where he has made a stroke on his enemy, it will be the picture of a tortoise. Those of the Turkey tribe paint only one foot of a turkey, and the Wolf tribe, sometimes a wolf at large with one leg and foot raised up to serve as a hand, in which the animal also carries a gun with the muzzle forward. They, however, do not generally use the word “wolf,” when speaking of their tribe, but call themselves Pauk-sit[205] which means round-foot, that animal having a round foot like a dog.

The Indians, in their hours of leisure, paint their different marks or badges on the doors of their respective houses, that those who pass by may know to which tribe the inhabitants belong. Those marks also serve them for signatures to treaties and other documents. They are as proud of their origin from the tortoise, the turkey, and the wolf, as the nobles of Europe are of their descent from the feudal barons of ancient times, and when children spring from intermarriages between different tribes, their genealogy is carefully preserved by tradition in the family, that they may know to which tribe they belong.

I have often reflected on the curious connexion which appears to subsist in the mind of an Indian between man and the brute creation, and found much matter in it for curious observation. Although they consider themselves superior to all other animals and are very proud of that superiority; although they believe that the beasts of the forest, the birds of the air, and the fishes of the waters, were created by the Almighty Being for the use of man; yet it seems as if they ascribe the difference between themselves and the brute kind, and the dominion which they have over them, more to their superior bodily strength and dexterity than to their immortal souls. All beings endowed by the Creator with the power of volition and self-motion, they view in a manner as a great society of which they are the head, whom they are appointed, indeed, to govern, but between whom and themselves intimate ties of connexion and relationship may exist, or at least did exist in the beginning of time. They are, in fact, according to their opinions, only the first among equals, the legitimate hereditary sovereigns of the whole animated race, of which they are themselves a constituent part. Hence, in their languages, these inflections of their nouns which we call genders, are not, as with us, descriptive of the masculine and feminine species, but of the animate and inanimate kinds. Indeed, they go so far as to include trees, and plants within the first of these descriptions. All animated nature, in whatever degree, is in their eyes a great whole, from which they have not yet ventured to separate themselves. They do not exclude other animals from their world of spirits, the place to which they expect to go after death.

I find it difficult to express myself clearly on this abstruse subject, which, perhaps, the Indians themselves do not very well understand, as they have no metaphysicians among them to analyse their vague notions, and perhaps confuse them still more. But I can illustrate what I have said by some characteristic anecdotes, with which I shall conclude this chapter.

I have already observed[206] that the Indian includes all savage beasts within the number of his enemies. This is by no means a metaphorical or figurative expression, but is used in a literal sense, as will appear from what I am going to relate.