It was on my return to Me-nau-zhe-tau-naung, and when I was about clearing for myself a field there, that I found the ill will of the Indians, influenced, as I thought, principally by the unfriendly offices of Ais-kaw-ba-wis, becoming so strong against me that I determined to leave them. But at this time an accident happened to me, which disabled me for many months. I had ascended a large tree to cut off the limbs, and having trimmed off the greatest part, I went up to cut the top off. Some of the upper branches struck the top of another tree, and threw the trunk, which I had cut off, against my breast, by which blow I was thrown off, and fell from a great height to the ground, where I lay for some time insensible. When consciousness returned I could not use my voice, so that it was some time before I could make the Indians understand that I wished them to bring me water. I fainted three times in attempting to reach the lodge where I then lived.
Several of my ribs being broken, it was long before I recovered so as to walk about without assistance. Dr. M’Laughlin, a trader at Rainy Lake, hearing of my situation, sent Mr. Tace with instructions to take me to his house at White Fish Lake. For a long time I vomited blood, and felt, if moved, the sensation of a hot liquid in the cavity of my body. At Rainy Lake I experienced much attention and kindness from Mr. Tace and other gentlemen belonging to the North West Company. In the latter part of the ensuing winter, I was better, but when the warm weather of the spring came on, I again relapsed, and became unable to hunt.
In ascending the long rapids of Rainy Lake River in the spring, our canoes sunk, and I carried my children ashore on my back. Mr. Tace’s canoe sunk also, but all the men were saved. A few days after this, we reached the trading-house of Dr. M’Laughlin at Rainy Lake. This gentleman gave me a room in his house, where my children took care of me for some time. Every thing necessary was furnished me, and the Doctor would have had me remain with him a year, but I felt lonely and dissatisfied, and determined on going back to the Lake of the Woods where my wife was, hoping that the trouble Ais-kaw-ba-wis had caused me might now be at an end.
My reception was not such as I could have wished, but nevertheless, I remained in the village until the corn was planted; then we went to collect and dry the blue berries which grow in great quantities in that country. Afterwards to the rice swamps; then we returned to gather our corn. Thus we were busy during all the summer.
Late in the fall I became sick again, not having yet recovered from the hurt I had received in falling from the tree, and at about the same time some kind of sickness became frequent among the Indians. I was one day lying in my lodge, unable to sit up or walk about, and the women were at work in the field, when my mother-in-law unexpectedly came in with a hoe in her hands, and began to beat me on the head with it. I was unable to make much resistance, and as I did not attempt it, I endeavoured to reconcile myself to die, as I believed she would certainly kill me. While at work in the field, she had begun to cry for her children, and probably thinking that the man who had caused their death was now in her power, she ran in with the determination of killing me, but for some reason unknown to me, she desisted after she had beaten me for some time, and as I covered my head with my blanket, and with my hands and arms warded off the blows after the first, I was less severely injured than I had cause to apprehend. So entire was the confidence my mother-in-law reposed upon the representations of Ais-kaw-ba-wis that she did not doubt but I was in reality guilty of the death of her children, and as I well knew that this was the case, I blamed her less for her conduct than I should otherwise have done. But notwithstanding she forbore to take my life, the unfriendly feeling on her part, and that of my wife, was becoming every day more and more manifest. This might have been in some measure owing to those misfortunes which had now impaired my health, and disqualified me for making so comfortable provision for my family as I formerly had done. But notwithstanding all the discouraging and distressing circumstances attendant on my present situation, I gradually recovered health and strength, and late in the fall, when the Indians were about to move to visit a trader, I was able to accompany them.
I had a small canoe of my own in which I embarked myself and my children, but my wife and my mother-in-law were in the large canoe with the provisions and the baggage. During the first day of our journey, I went forward with others of the Indians, leaving the women to come up to the encamping place after we had stopped. I cut and put up the poles for my lodge, but no pukkwi, no provisions, and no women came. Next day I was ashamed to tell the Indians I had nothing to eat, though my children began to cry of hunger, and for the same reason, I would not encamp with them. I knew that my wife had deserted, and I had no reason to suppose she would immediately rejoin me. I therefore kept ahead of the Indians, and went, before I stopped, beyond the place where I knew they would encamp. Here I killed a fat swan, and was able to give my children some food. The weather was now becoming very cold, and I had about this time a wide traverse to cross. The weather was somewhat rough, but as I did not wish to remain to be overtaken by the Indians, I made my children lie down in the canoe, and covered the whole as well as I could with a buffalo skin. The wind blew more and more violently, and the waves broke over my little canoe. The water froze upon the sides, and the children getting wet, suffered severely. I, also, was so much overpowered by the cold, that I could not manage the canoe properly, and it struck and was dashed in pieces on a rocky shoal, not far from the shore where I wished to land. Fortunately the water was not deep about the rock, nor between it and the land, and though a thin ice had formed, I was able to break it, and carry my children on shore. But here we had nearly perished from cold, as my spunk wood was wet, and I had no means of kindling a fire, until I thought to split open my powder horn, when I found in the middle of the mass of powder, a little which the water had not reached. This enabled me to kindle a fire, and was the means of saving all our lives. Next day Mr. Sayre, at the trading house near by, heard of my situation or at least the Indians having come up, and reported that I was lost, he sent out some men who found me, and assisted me to reach the house. Here I took a credit for my whole family, not knowing but my wife would join me at some future time.
The chief of that country, from whom I had previously obtained permission to hunt in a little piece of ground which I had selected, and a promise that none of his people should interfere with me there, now endeavoured to dissuade me from going to spend the winter by myself. I ought, he said, either to remain near the Indians, or to take some other woman for a wife. As my children were young and unable to assist me, and my own health somewhat uncertain, he thought it would be very imprudent for me to attempt wintering alone. But I would not listen to his advice. At present, I had no inclination either to remain with the Indians, or to take another wife. I therefore began to make a road immediately to my wintering ground. First I took the goods I had purchased and carried them forward, then returned and brought up my children. My daughter Martha was then three years old, and the other children were yet small. In two or three days I reached my hunting ground, but was soon after reduced to great distress, from which I was relieved by a medicine hunt.