When I had entered the lodge of my mother-in-law, I had omitted to pull off the hood of my thick moose-skin capote, and it was this which prevented me from noticing the entrance of Waw-bebe-nais-sa into the lodge, or seeing, or hearing his approach towards me. It is probable also, that had not my head been thus covered, the blow, had it been made, would have proved instantly fatal to me, as the force of it must have been somewhat broken by this thick covering of leather. But as it was, the skull was fractured, and there is still a large ridge upon that part of it where the edge of the tomahawk fell. It was very long before I recovered from this wound, though the immediate confinement which followed it did not last so long as I had feared it must.
Waw-bebe-nais-sa fled immediately to our village at Me-naw-zhe-tau-naung, and the remainder of the people, having never hunted in the prairie before now became panic struck at the idea that the Sioux would fall upon their trail and pursue them. I was too weak to travel, and moreover I knew well we were in no danger from the Sioux, but my mother-in-law found much fault because I was not willing to start with the Indians. I knew that my mother-in-law, and I had reason to suppose that my wife, had been willing to aid Waw-bebe-nais-sa in his attempt on my life, and I therefore told them both to leave me if they wished. They went accordingly, and took all my children with them. The only person who did not desert me at this time was Oto-pun-ne-be, as he was called from his bear totem, with his cousin, a lad of fourteen years old. These two remained and performed for me those offices of attention and kindness which my situation required, while those who should have been my friends abandoned me to my fate. After the fourth day, I became much worse, and was unable to sit up, and almost to move, until the tenth day, when I began to recover.
After I had gained a little strength, we left the lodges as they had been abandoned by the Indians in their fright, all standing, some of them filled with meat, and other valuable property, and started together for the village. Our trader lived at some distance from the village, and when we arrived at the place where the roads forked, I agreed with Oto-pun-ne-be that I would meet him at an appointed place, on the day which he named, as that on which he would return from the village. I went accordingly to the trader’s, and he to the Indian’s camp. We met again at the time and place agreed on, when he related to me, that he went to the village, entered the lodge of one of the principal chiefs, and sat down. He had not been long there, when Waw-bebe-nais-sa came in and sat down opposite him. After regarding each other for some time, Waw-bebe-nais-sa said to him, “You, Oto-pun-ne-be, have never been in our village before, and I am not ignorant of the occasion which has brought you so far to see us. You have no brothers of your own, the Long Knives having killed all of them, and you are now so foolish as to call the man whom I beat the other day your brother.” “It is not true,” said Oto-pun-ne-be, “that the Long Knives have killed any brother of mine. But if they had, I would not suffer you to fall upon my friend, who is as one of us, and abuse and injure him, as you have done, without cause or provocation. It is true, I call him my brother, and I will avenge his cause as if he were such, but I will not spill blood in the lodge of this chief, who has received me as a friend.” So saying, he took Waw-bebe-nais-sa by the hand, dragged him out of the lodge, and was about to plunge the knife to his heart, when the chief, who was a strong man, caught his hand, took away the knife, and broke it. In the scuffle which ensued, three or four men were at once upon Oto-pun-ne-be, but he being a powerful man, and not forgetting the object of his journey, kept fast his grip upon Waw-bebe-nais-sa, and did not quit him until two of his ribs were broken, and he was otherwise severely injured. Oto-pun-ne-be was a quiet man, even when drunk, and if he ever entered into a quarrel, it was more commonly, as in this case, in the cause of his friend, rather than his own.
I was content with the punishment that had been thus bestowed upon Waw-bebe-nais-sa, as I thought two broken ribs about equal to the broken head he had given me. We feasted together on game I had killed, so rapid had been my recovery, and then returned to the deserted camp where we found the lodges all standing as we had left them. After about ten days more, the people began to come back to look after their property. Oto-pun-ne-be took my canoe and returned to Red River, where he lived.
All our people returned, and removed their lodges and their property to Me-naw-zhe-tau-naung. I had now a great store of meat, sufficient as I knew, to supply the wants of my family for a year or more. After making the best disposition I could of all my affairs, I took a small canoe, and started by myself with the intention of coming to Mackinac, intending to go thence to the states, and endeavour to find some of my relatives, if any remained.
At Rainy Lake, I fell in with Mr. Giasson and others in the employ of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who told me it would not be safe for me to suffer myself to be seen by any of the North West Company’s people, as they were all much enraged against me on account of the course I had taken. Nevertheless, I knew well that the Hudson’s Bay people, having no occasion to go to the lower end of Lake Superior, could not conveniently aid me themselves, and that if I attempted to go alone, I must unavoidably fall in with some of the North West. I went, therefore, directly to the trading-house at Rainy Lake, where I found my old trader, Mr. Tace. He was standing on the bank when I came up with my little canoe. He told me to come into the house, and I followed him in accordingly. He then asked me, rather sternly, what I had come to him for. “Why do you not go,” said he, “to your own people of the Hudson’s Bay Company?” I told him I was now wishing to go to the states.
“It would have been well,” he replied, “had you gone long ago.” I waited there twenty days, receiving all the time the kindest treatment from Mr. Tace. He then brought me in his own canoe to Fort William, whence Dr. M’Laughlin sent me in one of his boats to the Saut De St. Marie, and thence Mr. Ermatinger brought me to Mackinac. All the people of the North West Company, whom I saw on this journey, treated me kindly, and no one mentioned a word of my connection with the Hudson’s Bay.
Major Puthuff, the United States Indian Agent at Mackinac gave me a birch bark canoe, some provisions, and a letter to Gov. Cass at Detroit. My canoe was lashed to the side of the schooner, on board which I sailed for Detroit under the care of a gentleman whose name I do not recollect, but who, as I thought, was sent by Major Puthuff expressly to take care of me on the way. In five days we arrived, and the gentleman telling me to wait until he could go on shore and return, he left me, and I heard no more of him. Next day I went on shore by myself, and walking up into the street I stood for some time gazing around me. At length, I saw an Indian, and going up to him, asked who he was, and where he belonged. He answered me, “An Ottawwaw, of Saw-ge-nong.” “Do you know Gish-kaw-ko?” said I. “He is my father.” “And where,” said I, “is Manito-o-geezhik, his father, and your grand-father?” “He died last fall.” I told him to go and call his father to come and see me. He called him, but the old man would not come.