by John Tanner
CHAPTER III
Friendly reception among the Indians on the Assinneboin. – Prairie Portage. – Net-no-kwa’s dream, and its fulfillment. – Meet with Pe-shau-ba, a distinguished warrior of the Ottawwaws. – Journey to Kau-wau-koning, and residence there. – Return towards Lake Superior. – War-party against the Minnetauks. – Mouth of Assinneboin river.
After a few days, we started to go up the Red River, and in two days came to the mouth of the Assinneboin where we found great numbers of Ojibbeways and Ottawwaws encamped. As soon as we arrived the chiefs met to take our case into consideration, and to agree on some method of providing for us. “These, our relations,” said one of the chiefs, “have come to us from a distant country. These two little boys are not able to provide for them, and we must not suffer them to be in want among us.” Then one man after another offered to hunt for us; and they agreed, also, since we had started to come for the purpose of hunting beaver, and as our hunters had died on the way, that each should give us some part of what they should kill. We then all started together to go up the Assinneboin river, and the first night we camped among the buffalo. In the morning, I was allowed to go out with some Indians who went to hunt buffaloes. We killed one of four bulls which we found. We continued to ascend the Assinneboin about ten days, killing many bears as we travelled along. The Assinneboin is broad, shallow, and crooked, and the water, like that of the Red River, is turbid; but the bottom is sandy, while that of Red River is commonly muddy. The place to which we went on the Assinneboin is seventy miles distant by land from the mouth; but the distance by water is greater. The banks of the river on both sides, are covered with poplar and white oak, and some other trees which grow to considerable size. The prairies, however, are not far distant, and sometimes come into the immediate bank of the river. We stopped at a place called Prairie Portage where the Indians directed the trader who was with them to build his house and remain during the winter. We left all our canoes and went up into the country to hunt for beaver among the small streams. The Indians gave Wa-me-gon-a-biew and myself a little creek where were plenty of beaver and on which they said none but ourselves should hunt. My mother gave me three traps, and instructed me how to set them by the aid of a string tied around the spring, as I was not yet able to set them with my hands as the Indians did. I set my three traps, and on the following morning found beavers in two of them. Being unable to take them out myself, I carried home the beavers and traps, one at a time, on my back, and had the old woman to assist me. She was, as usual, highly gratified and delighted at my success. She had always been kind to me, often taking my side when the Indians would attempt to ridicule or annoy me. We remained in this place about three months, in which time we were as well provided for as any of the band; for if our own game was not sufficient, we were sure to be supplied by some of our friends as long as any thing could be killed. The people that remained to spend the winter with us were two lodges, our own making three; but we were at length joined by four lodges of Crees. These people are the relations of the Ojibbeways and Ottawwaws, but their language is somewhat different, so as not to be readily understood. Their country borders upon that of the Assinneboins, or Stone Roasters[*]; and though they are not relations, nor natural allies, they are sometimes at peace, and are more or less intermixed with each other.
After we had remained about three months in this place, game began to be scarce and we all suffered from hunger. The chief man of our band was called As-sin-ne-boi-nainse, (the Little Assinneboin,) and he now proposed to us all to move as the country where we were was exhausted. The day on which we were to commence our removal was fixed upon, but before it arrived our necessities became extreme. The evening before the day on which we intended to move, my mother talked much of all our misfortunes and losses, as well as of the urgent distress under which we were then labouring. At the usual hour I went to sleep, as did all the younger part of the family; but I was wakened again by the loud praying and singing of the old woman, who continued her devotions through great part of the night. Very early on the following morning she called us all to get up, and put on our moccasins and be ready to move. She then called Wa-me-gon-a-biew to her, and said to him, in rather a low voice, “My son, last night I sung and prayed to the Great Spirit, and when I slept, there came to me one like a man, and said to me, ’Net-no-kwa, tomorrow you shall eat a bear. There is, at a distance from the path you are to travel to-morrow, and in such a direction, (which she described to him,) a small round meadow, with something like a path leading from it; in that path there is a bear.’ Now, my son, I wish you to go to that place, without mentioning to any one what I have said, and you will certainly find the bear, as I have described to you.” But the young man, who was not particularly dutiful, or apt to regard what his mother said, going out of the lodge, spoke sneeringly to the other Indians of the dream. “The old woman,” said he, “tells me we are to eat a bear to-day; but I do not know who is to kill it.” The old woman, hearing him, called him in, and reproved him; but she could not prevail upon him to go to hunt. The Indians, accordingly, all moved off towards the place where they were to encamp that night. The men went first by themselves, each carrying some article of baggage; and when they arrived where the camp was to be placed, they threw down their loads and went to hunt. Some of the boys, and I among them, who accompanied the men, remained with this baggage until the women should come up. I had my gun with me, and I continued to think of the conversation I had heard between my mother and Wa-me-gon-a-biew, respecting her dream. At length, I resolved to go in search of the place she had spoken of, and without mentioning to any one my design, I loaded my gun as for a bear and set off on our back track. I soon met a woman belonging to one of the brothers of Taw-ga-we-ninne, and of course my aunt. This woman had shown little friendship for us, considering us as a burthen upon her husband, who sometimes gave something for our support; she had also often ridiculed me. She asked me immediately what I was doing on the path, and whether I expected to kill Indians, that I came there with my gun. I made her no answer; and thinking I must be not far from the place where my mother had told Wa-me-gon-a-biew to leave the path, I turned off, continuing carefully to regard all the directions she had given. At length, I found what appeared at some former time to have been a pond. It was a small, round, open place in the woods, now grown up with grass and some small bushes. This I thought must be the meadow my mother had spoken of; and examining it around, I came to an open place in the bushes, where, it is probable, a small brook ran from the meadow; but the snow was now so deep that I could see nothing of it. My mother had mentioned that when she saw the bear in her dream she had, at the same time, seen a smoke rising from the ground. I was confident this was the place she had indicated, and I watched long, expecting to see the smoke; but wearied at length with waiting, I walked a few paces into the open place, resembling a path, when I unexpectedly fell up to my middle into the snow. I extricated myself without difficulty, and walked on; but remembering that I had heard the Indians speak of killing bears in their holes, it occurred to me that it might be a bear’s hole into which I had fallen, and looking down into it, I saw the head of a bear lying close to the bottom of the hole. I placed the muzzle of my gun nearly between his eyes, and discharged it. As soon as the smoke cleared away, I took a piece of a stick and thrust it into the eyes and into the wound in the head of the bear, and being satisfied that he was dead, I endeavoured to lift him out of the hole; but being unable to do this, I returned home, following the track I had made in coming out. As I came near the camp, where the squaws had, by this time, set up the lodges, I met the same woman I had seen in going out, and she immediately began again to ridicule me. “Have you killed a bear, that you come back so soon, and walk so fast?” I thought to myself, “how does she know that I have killed a bear?” But I passed by her without saying anything, and went into my mother’s lodge. After a few minutes, the old woman, said, “My son, look in that kettle, and you will find a mouthful of beaver meat, which a
man gave me since you left us in the morning. You must leave half of it for Wa-me-gon-a-biew, who has not yet returned from hunting, and has eaten nothing to-day.” I accordingly ate the beaver meat, and when I had finished it, observing an opportunity when she stood by herself, I stepped up to her and whispered in her ear, “My mother, I have killed a bear.” “What do you say, my son?” said she. “I have killed a bear.” “Are you sure you have killed him?” “Yes.” “Is he quite dead?” “Yes.” She watched my face for a moment, and then caught me in her arms, hugging and kissing me with great earnestness, and for a long time. I then told her what my aunt had said to me, both going and returning, and this being told to her husband when he returned, he not only reproved her for it, but gave her a severe flogging. The bear was sent for, and, as being the first I had killed, was cooked all together, and the hunters of the whole band invited to feast with us, according to the custom of the Indians. The same day, one of the Crees killed a bear and a moose, and gave a large share of the meat to my mother. For some time we had plenty of game in our new residence. Here Wa-me-gon-a-biew killed his first buffalo, on which occasion my mother gave another feast to all the band. Soon afterwards the Crees left us to go to their own country. They were friendly and hospitable people, and we were sorry to part with them; but we soon afterwards went down to the place where we had left the trader, and arrived there on the last day of December, as I remember the following was new year’s day.
Near this trading-house we remained for sometime by ourselves; at length, we received a message from the trader, and on going up found there Pe-shau-ba, a celebrated war-chief of the Ottawwaws, who had come from Lake Huron several years before. He, it appeared, heard in his own country of an old Ottawwaw woman, who, with a family of two women, two boys, and three little children, having lost their men by death, were on the Assinneboin, and suffering from poverty. He had come, with his three companions, (which were what the Indians commonly call his young men, though one of them was, perhaps, older than himself.) These were, Waus-so, (the lightning,) Sag-git-to, (he that scares all men,) and Sa-ning-wub, (he that stretches his wings.) The old man, Waus-so, who was himself distinguished as a warrior, had fallen sick, and had been left at some distance behind. Pe-shau-ba had traced us from place to place, by the reports of the Indians, and at last found us at Prairie Portage. He was a large and very handsome old man, and when we were called in, he immediately recognized Net-no-kwa as a relative. But looking round upon us, he said, “Who are these?” She answered, “They are my sons.” He looked at me very closely, and said, “Come here, my brother.” Then raising his blanket, he showed me the mark of a deep and dangerous wound on the chest. “Do you remember, my young brother, when we were playing together, with guns and spears, and you gave me this wound?” Seeing my embarrassment, he continued to amuse himself for some time, by describing the circumstances attending the wound, at the time he received it. He at last relieved me from some suspense and anxiety, by saying, it was not myself who had wounded him, but one of my brothers, at a place which he mentioned. He spoke of Ke-wa-tin, who would have been of about my age, if he had lived, and inquired particularly to the time and the circumstances of my capture, which had happened after he left Lake Huron.
This was about new year’s day, and soon after we started together for the country of Pe-shau-ba, which was at a great distance. The snow was deep, and our route lying, for the most part, through open prairies, we were not able to travel when the wind was high. When we commenced our journey, we were hungry and in want of provisions; but soon found plenty of buffalo, which were very fat and good. Notwithstanding the snow was deep, and the weather severe, the buffalo could still feed by pushing aside the snow with their heads, and thus coming at the grass below. We had thrown away our mats of Puk-kwi[*], the journey being too long to admit of carrying them. In bad weather we used to make a little lodge, and cover it with three or four fresh buffalo hides, and these being soon frozen, made a strong shelter from wind and snow. In calm weather, we commonly encamped with no other covering than our blankets. In all this journey, Pe-shau-ba and Sa-nin-kwub carried each one of our sister’s little children on their backs. Thus we travelled on as diligently as the weather would permit for about two months and a half. In the middle of our journey, we passed the trading-house and fort at Mouse River. The general direction of our route was a little north of west till we arrived, at last, at a place called Kau-wau-ko-mig Sah-kie-gun, Clear Water Lake, from which runs a small stream, called Sas-kaw-ja-wun, (Swift Water;) but this is not the source or a part of the great river Saskawjawun, (Saskutchawin,) which is farther towards the north. Clear Water Lake is not, however, the principal source of the Little Saskawjawun, the head of that river lying far to the north. On the bank of this lake was the small log hut of Pe-shau-ba, where he had lived, with the three men I have mentioned, for some years. He had left his wife at Lake Huron; and the other men, if they had ever been married, had no women with them. Immediately on his arrival, he opened his sun-je-gwun, and took out large quantities of beaver skins, dried meat, dressed skins, etc. etc. all of which he delivered to the women, saying, “We have long been our own squaws, but we must be so no longer. It must now be your business to dress our skins, dry our meat, make our moccasins, etc.” The old woman herself took charge particularly of the property of Pe-shau-ba, whom she called her son, and treated as such. The daughter, and the daughter-in-law, made it their business to look after the other three men. Wa-me-gon-a-biew and myself were, as heretofore, under the particular care of our mother. In hunting, I was the companion of Pe-shau-ba, who was always kind to me, and seemed to take pleasure in teaching me how to become a great hunter. It must have been late in winter when we arrived at Clear Water Lake; but the weather was still so cold that water, when carried out of our lodge, would freeze immediately. When going to hunt, we started long before the sun rose, and returned long after it set. At noon, the sun would scarce rise to the tops of the trees, though they are very low there.
The country where we were was mostly prairie, with some low cedar and pine trees; but there are plenty of beavers and other game. It is not very far distant from the country of the Mandans, on the Missouri. From Mouse River a man may walk to the Mandan villages in four days. Just before the leaves began to appear in the spring, we started with all our peltries, and large quantities of dried meat, and dried beaver tails, to come down to the trading-house, on Mouse River. In that country there is no birch or cedar fit for making canoes, so that we were compelled to make one for our journey of green moose skins, which, being sewed together with great care, and stretched over a proper frame, then suffered to dry, make a very strong and good canoe; but in warm weather it will not last long. In a canoe of this kind, which would carry nearly half as much as a common Mackinac boat, (perhaps five tons,) we all embarked with whatever belonged to us, the intention of Net-no-kwa and Pe-shau-ba being to return to Lake Huron.
We descended the Little Saskawjawun for several days. On this river we found a village of Assinneboins, with whom we stopped a short time. None of us could understand them except Waus-so, who had somewhere learned to speak their language. When we came from the Little Saskawjawun into the Assinneboin river, we came to the rapids, where was a village of one hundred and fifty lodges of Assinneboins, and some Crees. We now began to feel the want of fresh provisions, and determined to stop a day or two to kill sturgeons at this place, where we found a plenty of them. We went and stood near the Assinneboins, and saw an old man, when a sturgeon had just been drawn out of the water, cut off the pendant part of his mouth, and eat it without cooking, or any kind of condiment. These people generally appeared to us filthy and brutal. Something of our dislike may perhaps be attributed to the habitually unfriendly feeling which exists among the Ojibbeways for the Abbwoi-nug. In two days from these rapids we came to Monk River, where both the Northwest and the Hudson’s Bay Company have trading-houses. Here Pe-shau-ba and his friends began to drink, and in a short time expended all the pelt
ries they had made in their long and successful hunt. We sold one hundred beaver skins in one day for liquor. The price was then six beaver skins for a quarter of rum, but they put a great deal of water with it. After drinking here for some time, we began to make birch canoes, still intending to continue on our journey. But at this time the Assinneboins, and Crees, and all the Indians of this part of the country, with whom the Mandans had made peace, were invited by the Mandans to come to their country, and join in a war against the people called by the Ojibbeways A-gutch-a-ninne, who live two days distant from the Mandans. Waus-so, hearing of this, determined to join the war-party, then assembling at Mouse River. “I will not,” said he, “return to my country before I get scarred once more. I will see the people who have killed my brothers.” Pe-shau-ba and Net-no-kwa endeavoured to dissuade him, but he would not listen, and Pe-shau-ba himself presently began to show evidence of excitement at witnessing the enthusiasm of his companion. After deliberating a day or two, he said to the old woman, “I cannot consent to return to the country of the Ottawwaws without Waus-so. Sa-ning-wub and Sag-git-to also wish to go with him to visit the neighbors of the Mandans. I will go also, and I wish you to wait for me at Lake Winnipeg, where I shall be in the fall, and you will not fail to have a keg of rum in readiness, as I shall be very thirsty when I return.” They left the canoes unfinished, and all went off together with the war-party. Wa-me-gon-a-biew also accompanied them, leaving me only with the three women and three children. But this expedition, for which the Mandans had called assistance from such remote regions, failed for the want of concert and agreement between the different bands. Some of these being the hereditary enemies of the rest, quarrels were sure to arise, and the project was thus disconcerted, the A-gutch-a-ninne being left at peace in their own village.