I remained here one night. Among the presents I made the chiefs, were some spirituous liquors; with which they made themselves merry, and all joined in a dance, that lasted the greatest part of the night. In the morning when I departed, the chief attended me to the shore, and, as soon as I had embarked, offered up, in an audible voice, and with great solemnity, a fervent prayer in my behalf. He prayed “that the Great Spirit would favour me with a prosperous voyage; that he would give me an unclouded sky, and smooth waters, by day, and that I might lie down, by night, on a beaver blanket, enjoying uninterrupted sleep, and pleasant dreams; and also that I might find continual protection under the great pipe of peace.” In this manner he continued his petitions till I could no longer hear them.
I must here observe, that notwithstanding the inhabitants of Europe are apt to entertain horrid ideas of the ferocity of these savages, as they are termed, I received from every tribe of them in the interior parts, the most hospitable and courteous treatment; and am convinced, that till they are contaminated by the example and spirituous liquors of their more refined neighbours, they retain this friendly and inoffensive conduct towards strangers. Their inveteracy and cruelty to their enemies I acknowledge to be a great abatement of the favourable opinion I would wish to entertain of them; but this failing is hereditary, and having received the sanction of immemorial custom, has taken too deep root in their minds to be ever extirpated.
Among this people I eat of a very uncommon kind of bread. The Indians, in general, use but little of this nutritious food: whilst their corn is in the milk, as they term it, that is, just before it begins to ripen, they slice off the kernels from the cob to which they grow, and knead them into a paste. This they are enabled to do without the addition of any liquid, by the milk that flows from them; and when it is effected, they parcel it out into cakes, and inclosing them in leaves of the basswood tree, place them in hot embers, where they are soon baked. And better flavoured bread I never eat in any country.
This place is only a small village containing about twenty-five houses and sixty or seventy warriors. I found nothing there worthy of further remark.
The land on the south-east side of the Green Bay is but very indifferent, being overspread with a heavy growth of hemlock, pine, spruce and fir trees. The communication between Lake Michigan and the Green Bay has been reported by some to be impracticable for the passage of any vessels larger than canoes or boats, on account of the shoals that lie between the islands in the Grand Traverse; but on sounding it I found sufficient depth for a vessel of sixty tons, and the breadth proportionable.
The land adjoining to the bottom of this Bay is very fertile, the country in general level, and the perspective view of it pleasing and extensive.
A few families live in the Fort, which lies on the west-side of the Fox River, and opposite to it, on the east side of its entrance, are some French settlers who cultivate the land, and appear to live very comfortably.
The Green Bay or Bay of Puants is one of those places to which the French, as I have mentioned in the Introduction, have given nicknames. It is termed by the inhabitants of its coasts, the Menomonie Bay; but why the French have denominated it the Puant or Stinking Bay I know not. The reason they themselves give for it is, that it was not with a view to mislead strangers, but that by adopting this method they could converse with each other, concerning the Indians, in their presence, without being understood by them. For it was remarked by the persons who first traded among them, that when they were speaking to each other about them, and mentioned their proper name, they instantly grew suspicious, and concluded that their visiters were either speaking ill of them, or plotting their destruction. To remedy this they gave them some other name. The only bad consequence arising from the practice then introduced is, that English and French geographers, in their plans of the interior parts of America, give different names to the same people, and thereby perplex those who have occasion to refer to them.
Lake Michigan, of which the Green Bay is a part, is divided on the north-east from Lake Huron by the Straits of Michillimackinac; and is situated between forty-two and forty-six degrees of latitude, and between eighty-four and eighty-seven degrees of west longitude. Its greatest length is two hundred and eighty miles, its breadth about forty, and its circumference nearly six hundred. There is a remarkable string of small islands beginning over against Atkin’s Farm, and running about thirty miles south-west into the Lake. These are called the Beaver Islands. Their situation is very pleasant, but the soil is bare. However they afford a beautiful prospect.
On the north-west parts of this Lake the waters branch out into two bays. That which lies towards the north is the Bay of Noquets, and the other the Green Bay just described.