CHAPTER X.
Presence of mind and self-devotedness in an Indian mother—Indian warfare—conversation of a chief—winter hunt on the Begwionusko River—medicine hunting—customs, in cases of manslaughter—symbolic, or picture writing—death of Pe-shau-ba—disaster at Spirit Lake, and death of the Little Clam.
Within a few days after this drunken quarrel, Ta-bush-shish was seized with a violent sickness. He had for many days a burning fever, his flesh wasted, and he was apparently near dying when he sent to Wa-me-gon-a-biew two kettles, and other presents, of considerable value, with a message, “My friend, I have made you look ugly, and you have made me sick. I have suffered much, and if I die now my children must suffer much more. I have sent you this present, that you may let me live.” Wa-me-gon-a-biew instructed his messenger to say to Ta-bush-shish, “I have not made you sick. I cannot restore you to health, and will not accept your presents.” He lingered for a month or more in a state of such severe illness that his hair all fell from his head. After this he began to amend, and when he was nearly well, we all removed to the prairie, but were scattered about in different directions, and at considerable distances from each other.
After our spring hunting we began to think of going against the Sioux, and an inconsiderable party assembled among those who lived immediately about me. Wa-me-gon-a-biew and I accompanied them, and in four days we arrived at the little village where Ta-bush-shish then lived. Before our arrival here we had been joined by Wa-ge-tote with sixty men. After we had rested and eaten at our encampment near Ta-bush-shish’s lodge, and were about to start, we saw him come out naked, but painted and ornamented as for a war, and having his arms in his hands. He came stalking up to us with a very angry face, but none of us fully comprehended his design, until we saw him go up and present the muzzle of his gun to Wa-me-gon-a-biew’s back. “My friend,” said he, “we have lived long enough, and have given trouble and distress enough to each other. I sent to you my request that you would be satisfied with the sickness and pain you had made me suffer, but you refused to listen to me, and the evils you continue to inflict on me, render my life wearisome. Let us therefore die together.” A son of Wa-ge-tote, and another young man, seeing the intention of Ta-bush-shish, presented the point of their spears, one to one of his sides, the other to the other, but he took no notice of them. Wa-me-gon-a-biew was intimidated, and dared not raise his head. Ta-bush-shish wished to have fought, and to have given Wa-me-gon-a-biew an equal chance for his life, but the latter had not courage enough to accept his offer. Henceforth, I esteemed Wa-me-gon-a-biew less even than I had formerly done. He had less of bravery and generosity in his disposition than is common among the Indians. Neither Ta-bush-shish nor any of his band joined in our war-party.
We went on, wandering about from place to place, and instead of going against our enemies, spent the greater part of the summer among the buffalo. In the fall I returned to Pembinah, my intention being to go thence to the wintering ground of the trader above mentioned, who had proposed to assist me in getting to the states. I now heard of the war between the United States and Great Britain, and of the capture of Mackinac, and this intelligence deterred me from any attempt to pass through the frontier of the United States territory which were then the scenes of warlike operations.
In the ensuing spring, there was a very general movement among the Ojibbeways of the Red River toward the Sioux country, but the design was not, at least avowedly, to fall upon or molest the Sioux, but to hunt. I travelled in company with a large band under the direction of Ais-ainse, (the little clam.) His brother, called Wa-ge-tone, was a man of considerable consequence. We had ascended Red River about one hundred miles when we met Mr. Hanie, a trader, who gave us a little rum. I lived at this time in a long lodge having two or three fires, and I occupied it in common with several other men with their families, mostly the relatives of my wife. It was midnight or after, and I was sleeping in my lodge when I was waked by some man seizing me roughly by the hand and raising me up. There was still a little fire burning in the lodge, and by the light it gave I recognized, in the angry and threatening countenance which hung over me, the face of Wa-ge-tone, the brother of the Little Clam, our principal chief. “I have solemnly promised,” said he, “that if you should come with us to this country, you should not live. Up, therefore, and be ready to answer me.” He then went on to Wah-zhe-gwun, the man who slept next me, and used to him similar insolent and threatening language, but, by this time, an old man, a relative of mine, called Mah-nuge, who slept beyond, had comprehended the purport of his visit, and raised himself up with his knife in his hand. When Wa-ge-tone came to him, he received a sharp answer. He then returned to me, drew his knife, and threatened me with instant death. “You are a stranger,” said he, “and one of many who have come from a distant country to feed yourself and your children with that which does not belong to you. You are driven out from your own country, and you come among us because you are too feeble and worthless to have a home or a country of your own. You have visited our best hunting grounds, and wherever you have been you have destroyed all the animals which the Great Spirit gave us for our sustenance. Go back, therefore, from this place, and be no longer a burthen to us, or I will certainly take your life.” I answered him, that I was not going to the country we were now about to visit, particularly to hunt beaver, but that even if I were to do so, I had an equal right with him, and was as strong to maintain that right. This dispute was becoming somewhat noisy, when old Mah-nuge came up, with his knife in his hand, and drove the noisy and half drunken Wa-ge-tone out of the lodge. We saw this man no more for a long time, but his brother, the Little Clam, told us to think nothing of what he said.
Here a messenger overtook us to bring to the Ottawwaws the information that Muk-kud-da-be-na-sa, (the black bird,) an Ottawwaw of Waw-gun-uk-ke-zie, or L’Arbre Croche, had arrived from Lake Huron, to call us all home to that country. So we turned back, and one after another fell back, till Wa-ge-tone only was left, and he went on and joined a war-party of Ojibbeways then starting from Leech Lake. A part of this band stopped at the Wild Rice River,[25] and went into the fort, or fortified camp before mentioned. Here they began to hunt and trap, and were heedlessly dispersed about when a large party of Sioux came into their neighbourhood.
Ais-ainse, the Ojibbeway chief, returned one evening from a successful hunt, having killed two elks, and on the following morning, his wife with her young son, started out to dry the meat. They had proceeded a great distance from the lodge when the lad first discovered the Sioux party, at no great distance, and called out to his mother, “the Sioux are coming.” The old woman drew her knife, and cutting the belt which bound the boy’s blanket to his body, told him to run for home with all his strength. She then, with her knife in her hand, ran to meet the approaching war-party. The boy heard many guns, and the old woman was no more heard of. The boy ran long, when, perceiving that his pursuers were near, he lost consciousness; and when he arrived at the fortified camp, still in a state of mental alienation, the Sioux were about one hundred and fifty yards behind him. He vomited blood for some days, and never recovered his health and strength, though he lived about one year afterwards.
Several of the Ojibbeways were hunting in a different direction from that in which the wife of the Little Clam had met the war-party. As soon as the Sioux disappeared from about the fort, young men were sent out, who discovered that they had taken the path of the hunters, and one or two, taking a circuitous direction, reached the Little Clam just as the Sioux were creeping up to fire upon him. A fight ensued, which lasted a long time without loss on either side. At length, one of the Ojibbeways being wounded in the leg, his companions retired a little in order to give him an opportunity of escaping under cover of some bushes, but this movement did not escape the notice of the Sioux. One of their number followed the young man, continuing to elude the notice of the Ojibbeways while he did so, killed him, and took his scalp and medal, he being a favourite son of Ais-ainse, the Ojibbeway chief. Then returning, he shook these trophies at the Ojibbeways, with some exulting and vaunting words. The enraged father, at sight of the scalp and medal, rushed from his cover, shot down one of the Sioux, cut off his head, and shook it exultingly at the survivors. The other Ojibbeways, being emboldened at this conduct of the Little Clam, rushed forward together, and the Sioux fled.