A-propos to scalps; I have seen many of the warriors here, who had one or more of these suspended as decorations to their dress; and they seemed to me so much a part and parcel of the sauvagerie around me, that I looked on them generally without emotion or pain. But there was one thing I never could see without a start, and a thrill of horror,—the scalp of long fair hair.
THE MISSIONARIES.
Walking about early next morning, I saw that preparations for departure had already commenced; all was movement, and bustle, and hurry; taking down wigwams, launching canoes, tying up bundles and babies, cooking, and "sacrificing" wretched dogs to propitiate the spirits, and procure a favourable voyage. I came upon such a sacrifice just at the opposite side of the point, and took to flight forthwith. No interest, no curiosity, can overcome the sickness and abhorrence with which I shrink from certain things; so I can tell you nothing of this grand ceremony, which you will find described circumstantially by many less fastidious or less sensitive travellers.
All the Christian Indians now on the island (about nine hundred in number) are, with the exception of Mr. MacMurray's congregation from the Sault, either Roman Catholics or Methodists.
I had some conversation with Father Crue, the Roman Catholic missionary, a very clever and very zealous man, still in the prime of life. He has been here two years, is indefatigable in his calling, or, as Major Anderson said, "always on the go—up the lake and down—in every spot where he had the hope of being useful." I heard the Methodists and Churchmen complain greatly of his interference; but if he be a true believer in his religion, his active zeal does him honour, I think.
One thing is most visible, certain, and undeniable, that the Roman Catholic converts are in appearance, dress, intelligence, industry, and general civilisation, superior to all the others.
A band of Ottawas, under the particular care of Father Crue, have settled on the Manitoolin, about six miles to the south. They have large plantations of corn and potatoes, and they have built log-huts, a chapel for their religious services, and a house for their priest. I asked him distinctly whether they had erected these buildings themselves: he said they had.
Here, in the encampment, the Roman Catholic Ottawas have erected a large temporary chapel of posts covered in with bark, the floor strewed over with green boughs and mats, and an altar and crucifix at the end. In front a bell is suspended between the forked branches of a pine. I have heard them sing mass here, with every demonstration of decency and piety.
The Methodists have two congregations; the Indians of the Credit, under the direction of Peter Jones; and the Indians from Coldwater and the Narrows, under a preacher whose name I forget,—both zealous men; but the howling and weeping of these Methodist Indians, as they lie grovelling on the ground in their religious services, struck me painfully.