This we felt to be our moment of victory, and Frank was directed to improve it. Standing before the fire, with a gridiron in one hand and a dish-cloth in the other, he burst into a strain of unequalled eloquence. Without understanding a word, we could imagine him painting our desolate condition; how we were strangers from a far-off land, had left the pale-faces, our wives, our little ones, bringing with us only their faint delineation on paper, in order that we might see the beauties and grandeur of the Indian’s home—to sleep in the woods, to float upon the lakes, to wander through the forests, to explore the rivers. How we felt the red men to be our brothers, and wished to know them better, wished to stay long with them, to voyage in their company and under their guidance; that we were great men in our own land, but knew little of the wilderness or the manners of savage life; that we were rich in corn, in pork, in flour and biscuit, but had not thought to bring our purses, which were filled to overflowing, with us; but that we felt our brethren of the great Chippewa tribe would befriend us, would supply us with canoes and guides, and help us on our way. That the great universal brotherhood of man demanded it, and that the time might come when they would be in our land, penniless and ignorant, and might have to look to us for canoes and guides; and would be glad to remind us of the time they helped us up the Agawa.
At the end of every sentence and at every pause, the Indians all, big and little, broke in with a simultaneous m-m-m, a sort of grunt that became more vigorous as Frank became excited, and grew louder as his arguments grew stronger; till before he was through, the listener would have supposed that the entire party was suffering in the agony of what children know as the stomach-ache. The grunt was not in the least like the conventional humph, was uttered without opening the mouth, which would have been an excessive and unnecessary labor, and was capable of great expression. It began sympathetic, grew appreciative and confirmatory, and at last became wildly enthusiastic, evidently taking its origin from the Greek chorus, which is of a similar appropriateness; it was the strangest accompaniment to a public speech we ever heard.
Feeling the importance of the case, we endeavored to keep our countenances; but what with Frank’s bursts of eloquence, his graceful and impressive gestures with the gridiron, the vehement grunt in chorus at every pause, our strange position congregated in the wild woods round a fire with a parcel of unkempt savages, begging to swap off, as our Yankee brethren would say, a quantity of biscuit for a passage in a canoe, we could not contain ourselves, but rolled over in convulsions of laughter.
At first the Indians did not know what was the matter, then they joined with us, and when we attempted to imitate their grunt they shouted louder than we had done. Frank felt that aspersions were cast upon his eloquence, and seemed to have his feelings hurt, but unable to resist the general hilarity, at last joined the
“roar
That echoed along the shore.”
What Frank had really said I never could find out, but believe that he mentioned the subject we had at heart no farther than merely to order the young men to bring their canoes. Although half-breed himself, he was influenced by the general contempt for the rights of a savage, and determined in his own mind to have the canoes and pay for them as he pleased. Doubtless also he was more or less controlled by a dread of self-depreciation in acknowledging that he served penniless employers. To our persistent questions he would respond laconically that it was arranged, but would say nothing as to particulars. As we were entirely in his hands, having discovered that not a word of our language did the Indians understand nor we a word of theirs; and as, although our desire to do justice was great and might have been strong enough to induce us to give up the idea of obtaining the canoes, we were utterly unable to communicate it, we were compelled to submit to Frank’s course.
The Chippewa language is beautiful, easy, flowing, graceful, full of vowels, expressive, capable of vigorous impression, and, were it more generally understood, pleasant to acquire; but above all is it advantageous when an entire ignorance of its meaning enables you to take what you want and pay for it as you please. And if the native is dissatisfied he cannot vituperate or abuse you, as the strongest word, le plus vilain mot, as Frank expressed it, fortunately is “chien.”
