A-gus-ko-gaut, the Muskego chief whom we accompanied on this occasion, called himself a prophet of the Great Spirit, like the one who appeared some years since among the Shawanees. He had, some time before, lost his son, and on this party he carried the jebi, with the determination of leaving it in a bloody field; but this design was frustrated by the interference of Ta-bush-shah[*], (he that dodges down,) who now overtook us with twenty men. This restless and ambitious Ojibbeway was unwilling that any but himself should lead a party against the Sioux; more particularly, that any of his own daring actions should be eclipsed by the prowess of so despised a people as the Muskegoes. But on first joining us, his professions manifested nothing unfriendly to our undertaking; on the contrary, he pretended he had come to aid his brethren, the Muskegoes. A-gus-ko-gaut could scarce have been ignorant of the feelings and intentions of Ta-bush-shah, but nevertheless he received him with the utmost apparent cordiality and pleasure.
We journeyed on in company for some days, when in crossing some of the wide prairies, our thirst became so excessive that we were compelled to violate some of the rules of the war party. The principal men were acquainted with the general features of the country we had to pass, and knew that water could be found within a few miles of us, but most of the older warriors being on foot, were exhausted with fatigue and thirst. In this emergency, it became necessary that such of the party as had horses, among whom were Wa-me-gon-a-biew and myself, should go forward and search for water, and when it was found, make such a signal as would inform the main body what course to pursue. I was among the first to discover a place where water could be had, but before all the men could come up to it, the suffering of some of them had become excessive. Those who had arrived at the spring continued to discharge their guns during the night, and the stragglers dropped in from different directions, some vomiting blood, and some in a state of madness.
As we rested at this spring, an old man called Ah-tek-oons (the Little Caribou,) made a Kozau-bun-zichegun, or divination, and announced afterwards that in a particular direction which he pointed out, was a large band of Sioux warriors coming directly towards us; that if we could turn to the right or to the left, and avoid meeting them, we might proceed unmolested to their country, and be able to do some mischief to the women in their villages; but that if we suffered them to come upon us, and attack us, we should be cut off, to a man. Ta-bush-shah affected to place the most implicit reliance on this prediction, but the Muskegoe chief, and the Muskegoes generally, would not listen to it.
There was now an incipient murmur of discontent, and some few openly talked of abandoning A-gus-ko-gaut, and returning to their own country. For some days nothing occurred except the discovery by some of our spies, of a single Indian at a distance who fled immediately on being seen, and was from that circumstance supposed to be one of a Sioux war party. One morning we came to a herd of buffalo, and being without any food, several of the young men were dispersed about to kill some. We had now, since the discovery of the Sioux, been travelling only by night, keeping ourselves concealed in the day time. But the unguarded manner in which the Muskegoes suffered their young men to pursue the buffalo, riding about in open day, and discharging their guns, afforded Ta-bush-shah an opportunity to effect what was probably the sole design of his journey, a disunion of the party, and eventually the frustration of all the designs of A-gus-ko-gaut.
Our camp being profusely supplied with meat, we had something like a general feast. The party was regularly and compactly arranged, and after they had eaten, Ta-bush-shah arose and harangued them in a loud voice. “You, Muskegoes,” said he, “are not warriors, though you have come very far from your own country, as you say, to find the Sioux. But though hundreds of your enemies may be, and probably are, immediately about us, you can never find one of them unless they fall upon you to kill you.” In the close of his address, he expressed his determination to abandon the cause of a party so badly conducted, and return to his own country with his twenty men.
When he had spoken, Pe-zhew-o-ste-gwon, (the wild cat’s head,) the orator of A-gus-ko-gaut, replied to him. “Now,” said he, “we see plainly why our brothers, the Ojibbeways and Crees were not willing to come with us from Red River. You are near your own country, and it is of little importance to you whether you see the Sioux now, or in the fall. But we have come a very great distance. We bear with us, as we have long borne, those that were our friends and children, but we cannot lay them down, except we come into the camp of our enemies. You know well that in a party like this, large as it even now is, if only one turns back, another and another will follow, until none are left. And it is for this reason that you have joined us; that you may draw off our young men, and thus compel us to return without having done any thing.” After he had spoken, Ta-bush-shah, without making any answer, rose, and turning his face towards his own country, departed with his twenty men. A-gus-ko-gaut, and the principal men of the Muskegoes sat silently together, and saw one after another of their own young men get up and follow the Ojibbeways. In the first moments, this defection of Ta-bush-shah seemed to arouse some indignation in the breasts of some of the young Muskegoes, for they imprudently fired upon the rear of the retiring Ojibbeways; but though some of the latter turned to resent this treatment, their prudent leader repressed their ardour, and by so doing, gained the good will of those who might so readily have been rendered dangerous enemies. For the greater part of the day did A-gus-ko-gaut, and the few that remained firm to him, continue sitting upon the ground, in the same spot where he had listened to the speech of Ta-bush-shah; and when at last he saw his band diminished from sixty to five, the old man could not refrain from tears.
Wa-me-gon-a-biew had joined the deserting party, and at that time I had removed to a place a few rods distant from the chief, where I remained during the whole time. I now rejoined the chief and told him if he was willing to go on himself, I would accompany him, if no other would. The other three men who remained, being his personal friends, were willing to have gone on if he had wished it, but he said he feared we could do very little, being so few in number, and if the Sioux should discover us, we could not fail to be cut off. So the excursion was abandoned, and every man sought to return home by the most convenient and expeditious way, no longer paying the least regard to any thing except his own safety and comfort. I soon overtook Wa-me-gon-a-biew, and with three other men, we formed a party to return together. We chose, in our return, a route different from that taken by most of the party. Game was plenty, and we did not suffer from hunger. Early one morning, I was lying wrapped in my blanket by a deep buffalo path, which came down through a prairie to the little creek where we were encamped. It was now late in the fall, and the thick and heavy grasses of these prairies, having long before been killed by the frosts, had become perfectly dry. To avoid burning the grass, we had kindled our little fire in the bottom of the deep path, where it passed through the corner of the bank. Some of the Indians had got up, and were sitting part on one and part on the other side of the path, preparing something for breakfast, when our attention was called to some unusual sound, and we saw a porcupine come walking slowly and slouchingly down the path. I had heard much of the stupidity of this animal, but never had an opportunity to witness it till now. On he came, without giving any attention to surrounding objects, until his nose was actually in the fire. Then bracing stiffly back with his fore feet, he stood so near that the flame, when driven towards him by the wind, still singed the hairs on his face, for some minutes, stupidly opening and shutting his eyes. At length one of the Indians, tired of looking at him, hit him a blow in the face with a piece of moose meat he had on a little stick to roast. One of them then killed him with a tomahawk, and we ate some of the meat, which was very good. The Indians then, in conversation respecting the habits of this animal, related to me what I have since seen, namely: that as a porcupine is feeding in the night, along the bank of a river, a man may sometimes take up some of his food on the blade of a paddle and holding it to his nose, he will eat it without ever perceiving the presence of the man. When taken, they can neither bite nor scratch, having no protection or defence except what is yielded them by their barbed and dangerous spines. Dogs can rarely, if ever, be urged to attack them. When they do, severe injury and suffering, if not death, is the certain consequence.