Wau-Bun: The "Early Day" of the North-West

by Mrs. John H. Kinzie

At first there seemed a doubt in the minds of the boatmen whether they ought to accept so magnificent an offer, but finding, on giving them a preparatory shake, that the value of the contribution was less than they had imagined, they, with many shouts, and much laughter, consigned them to the waves. To the great delight and astonishment of the boys, a breeze at this moment sprung up, which carried the little vessel beautifully over the waters for about half the distance to Garlic Island. By this time the charm was exhausted, nor was it found possible to renew it by a repetition of similar offerings. All expedients were tried without success, and, with sundry rather disrespectful reflections upon the lady whose aid they had invoked, the Frenchmen were compelled to betake themselves to their oars, until they reached the island.

Two or three canoes of Winnebagoes had arrived at the same moment, and their owners immediately stepped forward with an offering of some sturgeon which they had caught in the lake. As this promised to be an agreeable variety to the noon-tide meal, (at least for the Frenchmen,) it was decided to stop and kindle a fire for the purpose of cooking it. We took advantage of this interval, to recommend to the boys to stroll to the opposite side of the island, where the clear, shallow water and pebbly beach offered temptation to a refreshing bath. While they availed themselves of this, under the supervision of Harry, the black boy, we amused ourselves with gathering the fine red raspberries with which the island abounded.

Our enjoyment was cut short, however, by discovering that the whole place, vines, shrubs, and even, apparently, the earth itself, was infested with myriads of the wood-tick, a little insect, that, having fastened to the skin, penetrates into the very flesh, causing a swelling and irritation exceedingly painful, and even dangerous. The alarm was sounded to bring the boys back in all haste, to the open and more frequented part of the island. But we soon found we had not left our tormentors behind. Throughout the day, we continued to be sensible of their proximity. From the effects of their attacks we were not relieved for several succeeding days; those which had succeeded in burying themselves in the flesh, having to be removed with the point of a penknife, or a large needle. After partaking of our dinner, we stepped on board our boat, and the wind having risen, we were carried by the breeze to the opposite verge of the lake, and into the entrance of the river, or, as it was called, the Winnebago rapids.

On the point of land to the right stood a collection of neat bark wigwams—this was Four-Legs' village.

It was an exciting and somewhat hazardous passage down the rapids and over the Grande Chûte, a fall of several feet; but it was safely passed, and at the approach of evening the boat reached the settlement of the Wau-bee-na-kees at the head of the Little Chûte. These are the Stockbridge or Brothertown Indians, the remains of the old Mohicans, who had, a few years before, emigrated from Oneida County in the State of New York, to a tract granted them by the United States, on the fertile banks of the Fox River.[[106]] They had already cleared extensive openings in the forest, and built some substantial and comfortable houses near the banks of the river, which were here quite high, and covered for the most part with gigantic trees.

It was determined to ask hospitality of these people, to the extent of borrowing a corner of their fire to boil our tea kettle, and bake the short-cake which had been now, for nearly two days, our substitute for bread. Its manufacture had been a subject of much merriment. The ingredients, consisting of Powell’s black flour, some salt and a little butter, were mixed in the tin box which had held our meat. This was then reversed, and having been properly cleansed, supplied the place of a dough-board. The vinegar bottle served the office of rolling-pin, and a shallow tin dish, set upon the coals at our previous encamping places, had formed the appliance for baking. The Wau-bee-na-kees were so good as to lend us an iron bake-kettle, and superintend the cooking of our cake after Harry had carried it up to their dwelling.

So kind and hospitable did they show themselves, that the crew of the boat took the resolution of asking a lodging on shore, by way of relief, after their crowded quarters in the boat for the last three nights. Arthur and Mâtâ soon adopted the same idea, and we were invited to follow their example, with the assurance that the houses were extremely neat and orderly.

We preferred, however, at it was a fine night, and all things were so comfortably arranged in the centre of the boat, to remain on board, keeping Edwin and Josette with us.

The boat was tightly moored, for the Little Chûte was just below, and if our craft should work loose in the rapid current, and drift down over the falls, it would be a very serious matter. As an additional precaution, one man was left on board to keep all things safe and in order, and these arrangements having been made, the others ascended the bank, and took up their night’s lodgings in the Wau-bee-na-kee cabins.

It was a beautiful, calm, moonlight night, the air just sufficiently warm to be agreeable, while the gentle murmur of the rapids and of the fall at no great distance, soon lulled our party to repose. How long we had slumbered we knew not, when we were aroused by a rushing wind. It bent the poles supporting the awning, snapped them, and another gust succeeding, tent and blanket were carried away on the blast down the stream. The moonlight was gone, but a flash of lightning showed them sailing away like a spectre in the distance.