by John Tanner
Next morning Wa-ge-tote came to my lodge to see me. He expressed all the interest in me which he had been in the habit of doing, and gave me much friendly advice, and many good wishes. After this Net-no-kwa returned again, urging me to marry the daughter, but I did not consent. These attempts were afterwards, from time to time, renewed, until the young woman found a husband in some other man.
After Wa-ge-tote and his band had left us, we went to the hunting ground I had chosen, where we spent great part of the summer by ourselves, having always plenty to eat, as I killed great numbers of elks, beavers, and other animals. Late in the fall we went to the trading-house at Me-nau-ko-nos-keeg, where we met with Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon, who had left us the year before, and with him we remained.
As the trader was coming to his wintering ground, the Indians, having assembled in considerable numbers, met him at the lake, at the distance of a few miles from his house. He had brought a large quantity of rum, and, as was usual, he encamped for several days that the Indians might buy and drink what they could before he went to his house, as they would give him less trouble at his camp. I had the presence of mind to purchase some of the most needful articles for the winter, such as blankets and ammunition, as soon as we met him. After we had completed our trade, the old woman took ten fine beaver skins, and presented them to the trader. In return for this accustomed present, she was in the habit of receiving every year a chief’s dress and ornaments, and a ten gallon keg of spirits, but when the trader sent for her to deliver his present, she was too drunk to stand. In this emergency, it was necessary for me to go and receive the articles. I had been drinking something, and was not entirely sober. I put on the chief’s coat and ornaments, and taking the keg on my shoulder, carried it home to our lodge, placed it on one end, and knocked out the head with an axe. “I am not,” said I, “one of those chiefs who draw liquor out of a small hole in a cask, let all those who are thirsty come and drink;” but I took the precaution to hide away a small keg full, and some in a kettle, probably in all three gallons. The old woman then came in with three kettles, and in about five minutes the keg was emptied. This was the second time that I had joined the Indians in drinking, and now I was guilty of much greater excess than before. I visited my hidden keg frequently, and remained intoxicated two days. I took what I had in the kettle, and went into the lodge to drink with Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon, whom I called my brother, he being the son of Net-no-kwa’s sister. He was not yet drunk, but his wife, whose dress was profusely ornamented with silver, had been for some time drinking, and was now lying by the fire in a state of absolute insensibility. Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon and myself took our little kettle and sat down to drink, and presently an Ojibbeway of our acquaintance, staggered in and fell down by the fire near the woman. It was late at night, but the noise of drunkenness was heard in every part of the camp, and I and my companion started out to go and drink wherever we could find any to give us liquor. As, however, we were not excessively drunk, we were careful to hide away the kettle which contained our whiskey in the back part of the lodge, covering it, as we thought, effectually from the view of any that might come in. After an excursion of some hours, we returned. The woman was still lying by the fire, insensible as before, but with her dress stripped of its profusion of silver ornaments, and when we went for our kettle of rum, it was not to be found. The Ojibbeway, who had been lying by the fire, had gone out, and some circumstances induced us to suspect him of the theft, and I soon understood that he had said I had given him something to drink. I went next morning to his lodge, and asked him for my little kettle, which he directed his squaw to bring to me. Having this fixed the theft upon him. Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon went and recovered the ornaments of his wife’s dress. This Ojibbeway was a man of considerable pretensions, wishing to be reckoned a chief, but this unfortunate attempt at theft injured his standing in the estimation of the people. The affair was long remembered, and he was ever after mentioned with contempt.
About this time, old Net-no-kwa began to wake from her long continued drunkenness. She called me to her, and asked me whether I had received the chief’s dress, and the keg of rum. She was unwilling to believe that I had suffered all the contents of the keg to be expended without reserving some for her. When she came to be assured not only that this was the case, but that I had been drunk for two days, she reproached me severely, censuring me not only for ingratitude to her, but for being such a beast as to be drunk. The Indians hearing her, told her she had no right to complain of me for doing as she herself had taught me, and by way of pacifying her, they soon contributed rum enough to make her once more completely drunk.
As soon as their peltries were all disposed of, so that they were compelled to discontinue drinking, the Indians began to disperse to their hunting grounds. We went with the trader to his house, where we left our canoes, and thence to the woods with Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon to hunt. We now constituted but one family, but his part of it was large, he having many young children. Cold weather had scarce commenced, and the snow was no more than a foot deep, when we began to be pinched with hunger. We found a herd of elks, and chasing them one day, overtook and killed four of them. When the Indians hunt elk in this manner, after starting the herd they follow them at such a gait as they think they can keep for many hours. The elks being frightened outstrip them at first by many miles, but the Indians, following at a steady pace along the path, at length come in sight of them. They then make another effort, and are no more seen for an hour or two, but the intervals at which the Indians have them in sight, grow more and more frequent, and longer and longer, until they cease to lose sight of them at all. The elks are now so much fatigued that they can only move in a slow trot, at last they can but walk, by which time the strength of the Indians is nearly exhausted. They are commonly able to come up and fire into the rear of the herd, but the discharge of a gun quickens the motions of the elks, and it is a very active and determined man that can in this way come near enough to do execution more than once or twice, unless when the snow is pretty deep. The elk, in running, does not lift his feet well from the ground, so that, in deep snow, he is easily taken. There are among the Indians some, but not many, men who can run down an elk on the smooth prairie, when there is neither snow nor ice. The moose and the buffalo surpass the elk in fleetness, and can rarely be taken by fair running by a man on foot.
The flesh of the four elks was dried, but by no means equally divided between us in proportion to the size and wants of our respective families. I made no complaint as I knew I was a poor hunter, and had aided but little in taking them. Afterwards, I directed my attention more to the hunting of beaver. I knew of more than twenty gangs of beaver in the country about my camp, and I now went and began to break up the lodges, but I was much surprised to find nearly all of them empty. At last I found that some kind of distemper was prevailing among these animals which destroyed them in vast numbers. I found them dead and dying in the water, on the ice, and on the land. Sometimes I found one that, having cut a tree half down, had died at its roots; sometimes one who had drawn a stick of timber half way to his lodge was lying dead by his burthen. Many of them which I opened, were red and bloody about the heart. Those in large rivers and running water suffered less. Almost all of those that lived in ponds and stagnant water, died. Since that year the beaver have never been so plentiful in the country of Red River and Hudson’s Bay, as they used formerly to be. Those animals which died of this sickness we were afraid to eat, but their skins were good.
It often happened while we lived with Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon, that we were suffering from hunger. Once, after a day and night in which we had not tasted a mouthful, I went with him to hunt, and we found a herd of elks. We killed two and wounded a third, which we pursued until night, when we overtook it. We cut up the meat and covered it in the snow, but he took not a mouthful for our immediate use, though we were so far from home, and it was now so late that we did not think of moving towards home until the following day. I knew that he h
ad fasted as long as I had, and though my suffering from hunger was extreme, I was ashamed to ask him for anything to eat, thinking I could endure it as long as he could. In the morning he gave me a little meat, but without stopping to cook any thing, we started for home. It was afternoon when we arrived, and Net-no-kwa seeing we had brought meat, said, “well, my son, I suppose you have eaten very heartily last night, after your long fast.” I told her I had as yet eaten nothing. She immediately cooked part of what he had given me, all of which lasted us no more than two days. I still knew of two gangs of beaver that had escaped the prevailing sickness, and I took my traps and went in pursuit of them. In a day or two I had taken eight, two of which I gave to Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon.
Some time in the course of this winter, there came to our lodge one of the sons of the celebrated Ojibbeway chief, called Wesh-ko-bug, (the sweet,) who lived at Leech Lake. This man was one of those who make themselves women, and are called women by the Indians. There are several of this sort among most, if not all the Indian tribes. They are commonly called A-go-kwa, a word which is expressive of their condition. This creature, called Ozaw-wen-dib, (the yellow head,) was now near fifty years old, and had lived with many husbands. I do not know whether she had seen me, or only heard of me, but she soon let me know she had come a long distance to see me, and with the hope of living with me. She often offered herself to me, but not being discouraged with one refusal, she repeated her disgusting advances until I was almost driven from the lodge. Old Net-no-kwa was perfectly well acquainted with her character, and only laughed at the embarrassment and shame which I evinced whenever she addressed me. She seemed rather to countenance and encourage the Yellow Head in remaining at our lodge. The latter was very expert in the various employments of the women, to which all her time was given. At length, despairing of success in her addresses to me, or being too much pinched by hunger, which was commonly felt in our lodge, she disappeared, and was absent three or four days. I began to hope I should be no more troubled with her, when she came back loaded with dry meat. She stated that she had found the band of Wa-ge-to-tah-gun, and that that chief had sent by her an invitation for us to join him. He had heard of the niggardly conduct of Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon towards us, and had sent the A-go-kwa to say to me, “my nephew, I do not wish you to stay there to look at the meat that another kills, but is too mean to give you. Come to me, and neither you nor my sister shall want any thing it is in my power to give you.” I was glad enough of this invitation, and started immediately. At the first encampment, as I was doing something by the fire, I heard the A-go-kwa at no great distance in the woods, whistling to call me. Approaching the place, I found she had her eyes on game of some kind, and presently I discovered a moose. I shot him twice in succession, and twice he fell at the report of the gun, but it is probable I shot too high, for at last he escaped. The old woman reproved me severely for this, telling me she feared I should never be a good hunter. But before night the next day, we arrived at Wa-ge-tote’s lodge, where we ate as much as we wished. Here, also, I found myself relieved from the persecutions of the A-go-kwa, which had become intolerable. Wa-go-tote, who had two wives, married her. This introduction of a new inmate into the family of Wa-ge-tote, occasioned some laughter, and produced some ludicrous incidents, but was attended with less uneasiness and quarreling than would have been the bringing in of a new wife of the female sex.
This band consisted of a large number of Indians, and the country about them was hunted poor, so that few even of the best hunters were able to kill game often. It so happened that myself and another man, who, like me, was reputed a poor hunter, killed more frequently than others. The Indians now collected for the solemn ceremony of the meta or mediance dance, in which Net-no-kwa always bore a very conspicuous part. I began to be dissatisfied at remaining with large bands of Indians, as it was usual for them, after having remained a short time in a place, to suffer from hunger. I therefore made a road for myself, and set my traps in a gang of beavers. When I signified to Wa-ge-tote my intention of leaving him, he said he was much afraid I should perish of hunger if I went far away by myself. I refused, however, to listen to his advice or persuasion to remain with him, and he then determined to accompany me to my traps, to see what place I had selected and judge whether I should be able to support my family. When we arrived, he found I had caught one large beaver. He advised and encouraged me, and after telling me where I should find his camp in case of being pressed by poverty, he returned.
My family had now been increased by the addition of a poor old Ojibbeway woman and two children, who being destitute of any men, had been taken up by Net-no-kwa. Notwithstanding this, I thought it was still best for us to live by ourselves. I hunted with considerable success, and remained by myself until the end of the season for making sugar, when Net-no-kwa determined to return to Menaukonoskeeg, while I should go to the trading house at Red River to purchase some necessary articles. I made a pack of beaver and started by myself in a small buffalo skin canoe, only large enough to carry me and my pack, and descended the Little Saskawjewun. There is, on the bank of that river, a place which looks like one the Indians would always choose to encamp at. In a bend of the river is a beautiful landing place, behind it a little plain, a thick wood, and a small hill rising abruptly in the rear. But with that spot is connected a story of fratricide, a crime so uncommon that the spot where it happened is held in detestation, and regarded with terror. No Indian will land his canoe, much less encamp, at “The Place Of The Two Dead Men.”[*] They relate that many years ago the Indians were encamped here, when a quarrel arose between two brothers having she-she-gwi for totems. One drew his knife and slew the other, but those of the band who were present looked upon the crime as so horrid that without hesitation or delay, they killed the murderer and buried them together.
As I approached this spot, I thought much of the story of the two brothers who bore the same totem with myself, and were, as I supposed, related to my Indian mother. I had heard it said that if any man encamped near their graves, as some had done soon after they were buried, they would be seen to come out of the ground, and either react the quarrel and the murder, or in some other manner so annoy and disturb their visitors that they could not sleep. Curiosity was in part my motive, and I wished to be able to tell the Indians that I had not only stopped, but slept quietly at a place which they shunned with so much fear and caution. The sun was going down as I arrived. I pushed my little canoe in to the shore, kindled a fire, and after eating my supper, lay down and slept. Very soon, I saw the two dead men come and sit down by my fire, opposite me. Their eyes were intently fixed upon me, but they neither smiled, nor say any thing. I got up and sat opposite them by the fire, and in this situation I awoke. The night was dark and gusty, but I saw no men, or heard any other sounds than that of the wind in the trees. It is likely I fell asleep again, for I soon saw the same two men standing below the bank of the river, their heads just rising to the level of the ground I had made my fire on, and looking at me as before. After a few minutes they rose one after the other, and sat down opposite me; but now they were laughing, and pushing at me with sticks, and using various methods of annoyance. I endeavoured to speak to them, but my voice failed me. I tried to fly, but my feet refused to do their office. Throughout the whole night I was in a state of agitation and alarm. Among other things which they said to me, one of them told me to look at the top of the little hill which stood near. I did so, and saw a horse fettered, and standing looking at me. “There, my brother,” said the jebi, “is a horse which I give you to ride on your journey to-morrow, and as you pass here on your way home, you can call and leave the horse, and spend another night with us.”
At last came the morning, and I was in no small degree pleased to find that with the darkness of the night these terrifying visions vanished. But my long residence among the Indians, and the frequent instances in which I had known the intimations of dreams verified, occasioned me to think seriously of the horse the jebi had given me.
Accordingly I went to the top of the hill, where I discovered tracks and other signs, and following a little distance, found a horse which I knew belonged to the trader I was going to see. As several miles travel might be saved by crossing from this point on the Little Saskawjewun to the Assinneboin, I left the canoe, and having caught the horse, and put my load upon him, led him towards the trading house where I arrived next day. In all subsequent journeys through this country, I carefully shunned “the place of the two dead,” and the account I gave of what I had seen and suffered there, confirmed the superstitious terrors of the Indians.
After I returned from trading at the Red River, I went to live at Naowawgunwudju, the hill of the buffalo chase, near the Saskawjewun. This is a high rocky hill, where mines may probably be found, as there are in the rocks many singular looking masses. Here we found sugar trees in plenty, and a good place for passing the spring. Game was so abundant, and the situation so desirable, that I concluded to remain instead of going with all the Indians to Clear Water Lake, where they assembled to have their usual drunken frolic. I had sent for Wa-me-gon-a-biew, and he now joined us here with one horse, making our whole number three. All these, all our dogs, and ourselves, were loaded with the meat of one moose, which I killed at this time, the largest and the fattest one I had ever seen.
Wa-me-gon-a-biew, after remaining with me four days, went to look for Wa-ge-tote, but without telling me any thing of his business. In a few days he returned, and told me that he had been to see Wa-ge-tote on account of his daughter that had been so often offered to me, and wished to know if I had any intention to marry her. I told him I had not, and that I was very willing to afford him any aid in my power in furtherance of his design. He wished me to return with him, probably that I might remove any impression the old people might have, that I would marry the girl, and accompany him in bringing her home. I assented without reflection, to this proposal and as we were about making our preparations to start, I perceived from Net-no-kwa’s countenance, though she said nothing, that the course we were taking displeased her. I then recollected that it was not the business of young men to bring home their wives, and I told Wa-me-gon-a-biew that we should be ridiculed by all the people if we persisted in our design. “Here,” said I, “is our mother, whose business it is to find wives for us when we want them, and she will bring them, and show them our places in the lodge whenever it is right she should do so.” The old woman was manifestly pleased with what I said, and expressed her willingness to go immediately and bring home the daughter of Wage-tote. She went accordingly, and it so happened that when she returned bringing the girl, Wa-me-gon-a-biew and myself were sitting inside the lodge. It appeared that neither Wa-me-gon-a-biew, nor the old woman, had been at the pains to give her any very particular information, for when she came in, she was evidently at a loss to know which of the young men before her had chosen her for a wife. Net-no-kwa perceiving her embarrassment, told her to sit down near Wa-me-gon-a-biew, for him it was whom she was to consider her husband. After a few days, he took her home to his other wife, with whom she lived in harmony.