A narrative of the captivity and adventures of John Tanner

by John Tanner

  After they had gone, I started with Net-no-kwa and the remainder of the family for Lake Winnipeg. We were compelled still to use the old moose-skin canoe, as none of the birch ones were finished, and we did not wish to remain any longer at Mouse River. We had left the trading-house but a short time, when we discovered a sturgeon, which, by some accident, had got into such shoal water, on a sand-bar, that considerable part of his back was to be seen above the surface. I jumped out of the canoe, and killed him with little difficulty; and as this was the first sturgeon I had ever taken, the old woman thought it necessary to celebrate the feat of Oskenetahgawin, or first fruits, though, as we were quite alone, we had no guests to assist us.

  The mouth of the Assinneboin is a place much frequented by the Sioux war-parties, where they lie concealed and fire upon such as are passing. We did not approach this place until dark, intending to pass through late at night; it was, accordingly, after midnight, when carefully avoiding either shore, we floated silently out into Red River. The night was dark, and we could not discern distinctly any object on shore; but we had scarce entered Red River when the silence was broken by the hooting of an owl on the left bank of the Assinneboin. This was quickly answered by another on the right bank, and presently by a third on the side of Red River, opposite the mouth. Net-no-kwa said, in a whisper scarce audible, “We are discovered,” and directed to put the canoe about, with the utmost silence. In obedience to her direction, we ascended with the utmost caution, endeavouring to keep near the middle of Red River. I was in the bow of the canoe, and keeping my head as low as I could I was carefully watching the surface of the water before us, hoping to be able to see and avoid any canoe, or other object, which might approach, when I saw a little ripple on the surface of the river, following a low, black object, which I took to be the head of a man, swimming cautiously across before us. I pointed this out to the women, and it was immediately agreed that we should pursue, and, if possible, kill the man in the water. For this purpose, a strong sturgeon-spear was put into my hand, and we commenced the pursuit; but the goose, (for it was one, with a brood of young ones,) soon became alarmed, and flew. When we perceived our mistake, we retraced our way up the river, with somewhat less of fear; but could by no means venture to turn about, and go on our way. I was, I remember, vexed at what I thought the groundless fears of the women; but I do not know, to this day, whether a war-party of Sioux, or three owls, frightened us back. We returned several miles, and expecting, in about ten days, that the traders would be on their way down, we determined to wait for them. Here we caught great numbers of young geese, swans, and ducks; and I killed an elk, which, as it was my first, must be celebrated by a feast, though there were none but our own family to partake of it.

  With the traders who came, according to our expectation, we went down to the house at Lake Winnipeg, where we remained two months. When they were about to return to the Assinneboin, we purchased a bark canoe, and accompanied them. We had a good many beaver skins, and Net-no-kwa bought a keg of rum with some of them for Pe-shau-ba. The keg held about five or six gallons, and we gave six beaver skins for a quart. Many of these beavers I had taken myself. I have killed as many as one hundred in a course of a month, but then I did not know the value of them.

  CHAPTER IV

  Elk hunting. – Beaver and buffalo hunting. – Endangered in killing a buffalo cow. – Fall Indians. – Return to Rainy Lake. – Swamp River and Portage. – The Begwionusko River and Lake. – Honesty and good faith in the intercourse of the Indians. – Hospitality. – Sufferings from hunger. – Red River. – Loss of packs. – Supposed dishonesty of traders. – Rapacity of the traders of the N. W. company. – Disasters following the loss of our peltries.

  In the Assinneboin river, at one or two days above the Prairie Portage, is a place called Ke-new-kau-neshe way-boant, (where they throw down the gray eagle,) at which the Indians frequently stop. Here we saw, as we were passing, some little stakes in the ground, with pieces of birch bark attached to them, and on two of these the figure of a bear, and on the others, those of other animals. Net-no-kwa immediately recognized the totems of Pe-shau-ba, Waus-so, and their companions. These had been left to inform us that Pe-shau-ba had been at this place, and as directions to enable us to find them. We therefore left the traders, and taking the course indicated by the marks which Pe-shau-ba had caused to be made, we found him and his party at the distance of two days from the river. They had returned from the abortive war expedition, to the trading house on Mouse River, finished the canoes which they had left incomplete, and descended along to Ke-new-kau-neshe way-boant, where, knowing there were good hunting grounds, they had determined on remaining. We found at their camp plenty of game; they had killed, also, a great number of beavers. About this place elks were numberous, and it was now the rutting season. I remember one day, Pe-shau-ba sent me with the two young women, to bring some meat from an elk he had killed at some distance. The women, finding that the elk was large and fat, determined on remaining to dry the meat before they carried it home. I took a load of meat, and started for home by myself. I had my gun with me, and perceiving there were plenty of elk, I loaded it, and concealing myself in a small thicket of bushes, began to imitate the call of the female elk; presently a large buck came bounding so directly towards the spot where I was, and with such violence, that becoming alarmed for my own safety, I dropped my load and fled; he seeing me, turned and ran in an opposite direction. Remembering that the Indians would ridicule me for such conduct, I determined to make another attempt, and not suffer any apprehension for my own safety to be the cause of another failure. So hiding myself again, in a somewhat more carefully chosen place, I repeated my call from time to time, till at length another buck came up, and him I killed. In this manner, great part of the day had been consumed, and I now perceived it was time to hasten home with my load.

  The old woman becoming uneasy at my long absence, sent Wa-me-gon-a-biew to look for me. He discovered me as I was coming out of a piece of woods into a large prairie. He had on a black capot, which, when he saw me, he turned over his head in such a manner as to make himself resemble a bear. At first I took it to be a common black bear, and sought a chance to shoot him; but it so happened that he was in such a situation as enabled him to see me, and I knew he would certainly have turned and fled from me had it been a black bear. As he continued to advance directly towards me, I concluded it must be a grizly bear, so I turned and began to run from him; the more swiftly I ran, the more closely he seemed to follow. Though much frightened, I remembered Pe-shau-ba’s advice, never to fire upon one of these animals unless trees were near into which I could escape; also, in case of being pursued by one, never to fire until he came very close to me. Three times I turned, and raised my piece to fire, but thinking him still too far off, turned and ran again. Fear must have blinded my eyes, or I should have seen that it was not a bear. At length, getting between him and the lodge, I ran with such speed as to outstrip him, when I heard a voice behind me, which I knew to be that of Wa-me-gon-a-biew. I looked in vain for the bear, and he soon convinced me that I owed all my terror to the disguise which he had effected, with the aid only of an old black coat. This affair being related to the old people when we came home, they reproved Wa-me-gon-a-biew; his mother telling him, that if I had shot him in that disguise, I should have done right, and according to the custom of the Indians she could have found no fault with me for so doing. We continued here hunting beaver, and killing great numbers until the ice became too thick; we then went to the prairies in pursuit of buffaloes. When the snow began to have a crust upon it, the men said they must leave me with the women, as they were about to go to Clear Water Lake to make canoes, and to hunt beaver on their way down. But previous to their going, they said they would kill something for us to live on while they were gone. Waus-so, who was a great hunter, went out by himself, and killed one buffalo; but in the night the weather became very cold and stormy, and the buffalo came in to take shelter in the woods where we
had our camp. Early in the morning, Net-no-kwa called us up, saying, there was a large herd close by the lodge. Pe-shau-ba and Waus-so, with Wa-me-gon-a-biew, Sa-ning-wub, and Sag-git-to crept out, and took stations so as nearly to surround the herd. Me they would not suffer to go out, and they laughed at me when they saw me putting my gun in readiness; but old Net-no-kwa, who was ever ready to befriend me, after they were gone, led me to a stand not far from the lodge, near which, her sagacity taught her, the herd would probably run. The Indians fired, but all failed to kill; the herd came past my stand, and I had the good fortune to kill a large cow, which was my first, much to the satisfaction of my mother. Shortly afterwards, having killed a considerable number of buffaloes, the Indians left us; myself, the old woman, one of the young women, and three children, six in all, with no one to provide for them but myself, and I was then very young. We dried considerable of the meat the Indians had killed, and this lasted us for some time; but I soon found that I was able to kill buffaloes, and for a long time we had no want of food. In one instance, an old cow which I had wounded, though she had no calf, ran at me, and I was barely able to escape from her by climbing into a tree. She was enraged, not so much by the wound I had given her, as by the dogs; and it is, I believe, very rare that a cow runs at a man, unless she has been worried by dogs. We made sugar this spring, ten miles above Mouse River Fort. About this time I was much endangered by the breaking of the ice. The weather had become mild, and the beavers began to come up through the holes on to the ice, and sometimes to go on shore. It was my practice to watch these holes, and shoot them as soon as they came up: once, having killed one, I ran hastily up on the ice to get him, and broke in; my snow shoes became entangled with some brush on the bottom, and had nearly dragged me under, but by great exertion I at length escaped. Buffaloes were so numerous about this place, that I often killed them with a bow and arrow, though I hunted them on foot, and with no other aid than that of dogs well trained and accustomed to hunt.

  When the leaves began to appear upon the trees, Pe-shauba and the men returned in birch canoes, bringing many beaver skins and other valuable peltries. Old Net-no-kwa was now anxious to return to Lake Huron, as was Pe-shau-ba; but Waus-so and Sa-ning-wub would not return, and Pe-shau-ba was unwilling to part with them. Sag-git-to had for some time been very sick, having a large ulcer or abscess near his navel. After having drank for some days, he had a violent pain in his belly, which at length swelled and broke. Pe-shau-ba said to the old woman, “it is not good that Sag-git-to should die here, at a distance from all his friends; and since we see he cannot live much longer, I think it best for you to take him and the little children, and return to Lake Huron. You may be able to reach the rapids, (Saut de St. Marie,) before Sag-git-to dies.” Conformably to this advice, our family was divided. Pe-shau-ba, Waus-so, and Sa-ning-wub remained; Net-no-kwa, and the two other women, with Sag-git-to, Wa-me-gon-a-biew, and myself, with a little girl the old woman had bought, and three little children, started to return to Lake Huron. The little girl was brought from the country of the Bahwetego-weninnewug, the Fall Indians, by a war party of Ojibbeways from whom Net-no-kwa had bought her. The Fall Indians live near the Rocky Mountains, and wander much with the Black Feet; their language being unlike that of both the Sioux and the Ojibbeways. These last, and the Crees, are more friendly with the Black Feet than they are with the Fall Indians. The little Bahwetig girl that Net-no-kwa had bought, was now ten years of age, but having been some time among the Ojibbeways, had learned their language.

  When we came to Rainy Lake, we had ten packs of beaver of forty skins each. Net-no-kwa sold some other peltries for rum, and was drunk for a day or two. We here met some of the trader’s canoes on their way to Red River; and Wa-me-gon-a-biew, who was now eighteen years old, being unwilling to return to Lake Huron, determined to go back to the north with the trader’s people. The old woman said much to dissuade him, but he jumped into one of the canoes as they were about to start off, and although, at the request of the old woman, they endeavoured to drive him out, he would not leave the canoe. Net-no-kwa was much distressed, but could not make up her mind to lose her only son; she determined on returning with him.

  The packs of beaver she would not leave with the traders, not having sufficient confidence in their honesty. We therefore took them to a remote place in the woods, where we made a sunjegwun, or deposite, in the usual manner. We then returned to the Lake of the Woods. From this lake the Indians have a road to go to Red River which the white men never follow; this is by the way of the Muskeek, or swamp carrying place. We went up a river which the Indians call Muskeego-ne-gum-me-we-see-bee[*], or Swamp River, for several days; we then dragged our canoes across a swamp for one day. This swamp is only of moss and some small bushes on the top of the water, so that it quakes to a great distance as people walk over it. Then we put our canoes into a small stream, which they called Begwionusk, from the begwionusk, or cow parsley, which grows upon it: this we descended into a small Sahgiegun[*], called by the same name. This pond has no more than two or three feet of water, and great part of it is not one foot deep; but at this time its surface was covered with ducks, geese, swans, and other birds. Here we remained a long time, and made four packs of beaver skins. When the leaves began to fall, Sag-git-to died. We were now quite alone, no Indians or white men being within four or five days’ journey from us. Here we had packs to deposit, as we were about to leave the country; and the ground being too swampy to admit of burying them in the usual manner, we made a sunjegwun of logs, so tight that a mouse could not enter it, in which we left all our packs and other property which we could not carry. If any of the Indians of this distant region had found it in our absence, they would not have broken it up; and we did not fear that the traders would penetrate to so poor and solitary a place. Indians who live remote from the whites have not learned to value their peltries so highly that they will be guilty of stealing them from each other, and at the time of which I speak, and in the country were I was, I have often known a hunter leave his traps for many days in the woods without visiting them or feeling any anxiety about their safety. It would often happen, that one man having finished his hunt, and left his traps behind him, another would say to him, “I am going to hunt in such a direction, where are your traps?” When he has used them, another, and sometimes four or five, take them in succession; but in the end, they are sure to return to the right owner.

  When the snow had fallen, and the weather began to be cold, so that we could no longer kill beaver, we began to suffer from hunger. Wa-me-gon-a-biew was now our principal dependance, and he exerted himself greatly to supply our wants. In one of his remote excursions in pursuit of game, he met with a lodge of Ojibbeways, who, though they had plenty of meat, and knew that he and his friends were in distress, gave him nothing except what he wanted to eat at night. He remained with them all night, and in the morning started for home. On his way he killed a young Moose, which was extremely poor. When this small supply was exhausted, we were compelled to go and encamp with the inhospitable people whom Wa-me-gon-a-biew had seen. We found them well supplied with meat, but whatever we procured from them was in exchange for our ornaments of silver or other articles of value. I mentioned the niggardliness and inhospitality of these people because I had not before met with such an instance among the Indians. They are commonly ready to divide what provisions they have with any who come to them in need. We had been about three days with these Indians when they killed two Moose. They called Wa-me-gon-a-biew and me to go after meat, but only gave us the poorest part of one leg. We bought some fat meat from them, giving them our silver ornaments. The patience of old Net-no-kwa was at length exhausted, and she forbade us all to purchase any thing more from them. During all the time we remained with these people, we were suffering almost the extremity of hunger. One morning Net-no-kwa rose very early, and tying on her blanket, took her hatchet and went out. She did not return that night; but the next day, towards evening, as we were all lying down inside the lod
ge, she came in, and shaking Wa-me-gon-a-biew by the shoulder, said to him, “get up, my son, you are a great runner, and now let us see with what speed you will go and bring the meat which the Great Spirit gave me last night. Nearly all night I prayed and sung, and when I fell asleep near morning, the Spirit came to me, and gave me a bear to feed my hungry children. You will find him in that little copse of bushes in the prairie. Go immediately, the bear will not run from you, even should he see you coming up.”

  “No, my mother,” said Wa-me-gon-a-biew, “it is now near evening: the sun will soon set, and it will not be easy to find the track in the snow. In the morning Shaw-shaw-wa-ne-ba-se shall take a blanket, and a small kettle, and in the course of the day I may overtake the bear and kill him, and my little brother will come up with my blanket, and we can spend the night where I shall kill him.”

  The old woman did not yield to the opinion of the hunter. Altercation and loud words followed; for Wa-me-gon-a-biew had little reverence for his mother, and as scarce any other Indian would have done, he ridiculed her pretensions to an intercourse with the Great Spirit, and particularly, for having said that the bear would not run if he saw hunters coming. The old woman was offended; and after reproaching her son, she went out of the lodge, and told the other Indians her dream, and directed them to the place where she said the bear would certainly be found. They agreed with Wa-me-gon-a-biew, that it was too late to go that night; but as they had confidence in the prayers of the old woman, they lost no time in following her direction at the earliest appearance of light in the morning. They found the bear at the place she had indicated, and killed it without difficulty. He was large and fat, but Wa-me-gon-a-biew, who accompanied them, received only a small piece for the portion of our family. The old woman was angry, and not without just cause; for although she pretended that the bear had been given her by the Great Spirit, and the place where he lay pointed out to her in a dream, the truth was, she had tracked him into the little thicket, and then circled it, to see that he had not gone out. Artifices of this kind, to make her people believe she had intercourse with the Great Spirit, were, I think, repeatedly assayed by her.