From Hopkinsville I returned to the house of my stepmother, where I made my preparations to go to the Lake of the Woods. Part of my relatives, who had accompanied me from beyond the Mississippi, had returned to their own homes; but my brother and his wife stayed to travel with me. From my brother Edward’s house near New Madrid, I went again to Jackson where I was again taken sick. My stock of money had now increased through the voluntary donations of those friendly and charitable people among whom I had passed, to five hundred dollars, and, this being all in silver, would, my brother thought, be the means of exposing me to danger, and bringing me into difficulty, should I travel by myself. He, therefore, refused to leave me.
From Jackson we went together to St. Louis, where we saw Gov. Clark, who had already given much assistance to my brother in his journeys in search of me. He received us with great kindness, and offered us whatever assistance we might think necessary in accomplishing the object I now had in view, which was to bring my family from the Indian country. My brother wished to accompany me, and to take a considerable number of men, to aid, if it should be necessary, in taking my children from the Indians; but I went one day to Gov. Clark, by myself, and told him he must not listen to my brother, who knew little of the country I was going to visit, or of what was needful to my success in the attempt to bring out my family. In truth, I did not wish my brother, or any other white man, to accompany me, as I knew he could not submit to all the hardships of the journey, and live as I should be compelled to live, in an Indian lodge all winter. Furthermore, I was aware that he would be rather an incumbrance than any help to me. Gov. Clark wished to send me to the Lake of the Woods by way of the Upper Mississippi, but I was not willing to go that way, on account of the Sioux, through whose country I must pass. He gave me a Mackinac boat, large enough to carry sixty men, with a sufficient crew, three barrels of flour, two of hard bread, guns, tents, axes, etc. etc. Having prevailed on my brother to return, I set off. The current of the Mississippi below the Missouri, soon convinced me that my large and heavy boat was not well adapted to the nature of my undertaking, and at Portage De Sioux I left it. From this place I proceeded in a small canoe, with two men, to the head of the Illinois River, thence to Chikago.
I had a letter from Gov. Clark to Mr. M’Kenzie, the Indian agent at that place, and as there was no vessel about to sail for Mackinac, he fitted out a bark canoe with a crew of Indians to take me on my journey; but the Indians stopped to drink several days, and, in the mean time a vessel arrived in which I sailed on her return. I had waited ten days at Mackinac when Capt. Knapp of the revenue cutter offered me a passage to Drummond’s Island. Here Dr. Mitchell, and the Indian agent, Col. Anderson, treated me in a very friendly manner, until the latter had an opportunity to send me to the Saut De St. Marie.
At the Saut I remained two or three months, as Col. Dickson, who was there, would not allow me to go up Lake Superior in the North West Company’s vessel, which went and returned three times while I was detained waiting for him. At last he was ready to start, and I went on board his boat. We were no sooner out from shore, than he handed me an oar, and though my health was very poor, he compelled me to row as long as I was able to sit up. Being at last quite disabled, he left me on shore at a spot twenty miles above Fort William, where we found Mr. Giarson, who was there to take care of some property for the Hudson’s Bay people. I was much dissatisfied with the treatment I received from Col. Dickson, and at parting I told him that notwithstanding he left me so far from the end of my journey, I would still reach Me-naw-zhe-tau-naung before him. All my baggage I left in the care of Mr. Giarson, and went on in a small canoe with one old Frenchman whom I hired, and having good luck to cross the lake, I arrived before him.
My family were all well. Next day some one told me that the red headed Englishman, as they called Col. Dickson, was coming up to my lodge. I told him, without going out, that he need not come in. “You find me here in my lodge,” said I, “though you abandoned me on the lake shore, when very far from my home, or from any place where I could have expected to find help; but my lodge is not fit for such as you, therefore I hope you will not come in.” I knew he wished to ask me for something to eat, but I was determined not to see him, or give him any thing. He left our village, and went by the Indians’ road to Red River, though, as the water was unusually low, we heard he had a journey of extreme difficulty, and had nearly perished of hunger. There was, on the way, an enclosed burying ground where one of my brother’s-in-law, a daughter of Oto-pun-ne-be, and others of my friends and acquaintances, had been buried. Many of these graves were well covered, but Col. Dickson broke down the pailings, and destroyed the little houses that had been raised over the graves, at which conduct the Indians were much offended. They threatened to take his life, and might have done so had an opportunity offered. He went to Pembinah, thence to Lake Traverse, and returned no more into the country of the Ojibbeways.
A few days after my arrival at Me-naw-zhe-tau-naung, one of my children sickened and died of the measles, a complaint at that time very fatal among the Indians. The others were subsequently attacked, but I now knew better how to take care of them, and no more died. Soon after this provisions became scarce, and I was, with Me-zhuk-ko-naun, making preparations for a medicine hunt. In my dream I saw the same young man I had before seen on similar occasions, come down in the usual manner and stand before me. He reproved me with more than usual harshness for my complaints, and because I cried for the child I had recently lost. “Henceforth,” said he, “you shall see me no more, and that which remains before you, of your path, shall be full of briers and thorns. It is on account of the many crimes, and the bad conduct of your wife, that all your coming days are to be filled with trouble. Nevertheless, as you have called me this time, I give you something to eat.” When he said this, I looked and saw before me many ducks covering the surface of the water, and in another place a sturgeon, in a third a reindeer. This dream was fulfilled, as usual, at least as much of it as related to my hunting and fishing.
As the winter came on, I went to Red River to hunt buffalo, and make dry meat, and early in the spring I started to come to the States. From my first wife I had parted ten years before the time I now speak of; but the urgency of the Indians, and, in part, the necessity of my situation, had compelled me to take another.[34] By this woman I had three children; those by my former wife were not at present in the village. My wife refusing to accompany me, I took the three children and started without her. At Rainy Lake she overtook me, and agreed to accompany me to Mackinac.
On my way down, I was assisted by the North West Company. At Drummond’s Island I was disappointed of large presents given me when on my way to the Lake of the Woods, but which, as I did not then wish to take, were promised me on my return. The commanding officer who had shown me so much kindness, had been relieved by another of a very different character, one who seemed to find no satisfaction in doing any thing for any person connected with the Indians. This man refused to see me, or afford me any assistance. By the kindness, however, of Mr. Ermatinger of the Saut De St. Marie, I was enabled to reach Mackinac.
Col. Boyd, the Indian agent at that time at Mackinac, called me to him, and wished to hire me as a striker in his smith’s shop; but not liking the employment, I did not wish to remain. He gave me one hundred pounds of flour, the same quantity of pork, some whiskey, tobacco, etc. There were two vessels about to sail for Chikago, but neither of them would take me as a passenger, though I had money enough, and was willing to pay them. As I had no other alternative, I was compelled to purchase from the Indians a poor and old bark canoe, for which I gave sixty dollars, and I engaged three Frenchmen to accompany me, but Col. Boyd would not permit them to go. He gave me, however, a letter to Dr. Wolcott, who was now Indian agent at Chikago, and I started with only one man to assist me.
At the Ottawwaw settlement of Waw-gun-nuk-kiz-ze I stopped for a short time, and finding that my canoe was too frail and leaky to perform the voyage, I purchased another, a new one, for which I gave eighty dollars. Several of my acquaintances among the Ottawwaws determined to accompany me, and started accordingly, eight men in one canoe, and six in another, with some women. They went on with me until we arrived within one or two days’ journey of Chikago, when meeting other Indians with discouraging accounts of the state of the water in the Illinois, they left me and went back. My wife returned with them.