We met also, in this journey, an American trader, whose name I do not now recollect, but who treated me with much attention, and urged me to leave the Indians and return with him to the States. But I was poor, having few peltries of any value. I had also a wife and one child. He told me the government, and the people of the United States, would be generous to me, and he himself promised to render me all the aid in his power, but I declined accepting his offer, preferring for the present to remain among the Indians, though it was still my wish and intention ultimately to leave them. I heard from this man that some of my relations had been as far as Mackinac in search of me, and I dictated a letter to them which this gentleman undertook to have conveyed to its destination. When about to part from us, he gave to Wa-me-gon-a-biew and myself, each a bark canoe, and some other valuable presents.
As we were travelling towards Red River, our principal man, Wy-ong-je-cheween, to whom we had committed the direction of our party, became alarmed. We were following a long river which discharges into Red River. I saw him anxiously looking about, on one side and the other, and attentively watching for all those indications of the proximity of men, which could be afforded by the tracks of animals, the flight of birds, and other marks, which they so well know how to understand. He said nothing of fear. An Indian in such circumstances rarely, if ever, does. But when he saw me at night, trying to kindle a fire for our encampment, he rose up, wrapped his blanket about him, and without saying a word, walked away. I watched him until I saw him select a place, combining the requisite for the entire concealment of his person, and affording him the power of overlooking a considerable extent of country. Knowing the motive which had occasioned this, I followed his example, as did the remaining men of our party. Next morning we met, and ventured to kindle a fire to prepare a little breakfast. Our kettle was but just hung over the fire and filled, when we discovered the Sioux, on a point not half a mile behind us. We dashed the contents of the kettle on the fire and fled. At some distance below, we built a strong camp, and I set my traps.
Among the presents I had received from the American trader, was a small keg containing sixteen quarts of strong rum which I had brought thus far on my back. Wa-me-gon-a-biew and the other Indians had often begged me for a taste of it, which I had constantly refused, telling them the old man, and the chiefs, and all, should taste it together when we reached home. But now they took an opportunity when I was absent to look at my traps, to open it, and when I returned I found them all drunk and quarrelling with each other. I was aware of our dangerous and exposed situation, and felt somewhat alarmed when I found so many of us totally disabled by intoxication. I tried, however, to quiet their noise, but in so doing I endangered my own safety. As I held two of them apart, one in one hand, the other in the other, the third, an old man, came behind and made a thrust at my back with a knife, which I very narrowly avoided. They were all affronted, as I had reproached them with cowardice, telling they they preferred remaining like rabbits in their hole, and dared neither venture out to go against their enemies, or even to hunt for something to eat. In fact, I had for some time fed and supported them, and I was not a little vexed at their foolishness. We had, however, no more alarms immediately, and the Indians at length venturing to hunt, we met with so much success as nearly to load one canoe with skins. The remainder of my little cask of rum, which I had used great care to keep out of their way, caused them one more drunken frolic, they having stolen it in my absence.
After we had completed our hunt, we started down together. Approaching Red River, we heard great numbers of guns before us, and my companions, supposing them to be those of the Sioux, left me and fled across land, in which way they could reach home in less than a day. As I was determined not to abandon our property in the canoe, I continued on by myself, and in about four days arrived safely at home.
The Indians were now about assembling at Pembinah to dispose of their peltries, and have their usual drunken frolic. I had but just arrived at the encampment of our band when they began to start, some going forward by land, and leaving the women to bring on their loads in the canoes. I tried to persuade Wa-me-gon-a-biew and others, which were particularly my friends, not to join in this foolish and destructive indulgence, but I could not prevail upon them. They all went on in advance of me. I moved slowly along, hunting and making dry meat, and did not reach Pembinah until most of the men of the band had passed several days there in drinking. As soon as I arrived, some Indians came to tell me that Wa-me-gon-a-biew had lost his nose. Another had a large piece bitten out of his cheek; one was injured in one way, another in another.
I learned that my brother, as I always called Wa-me-gon-a-biew, had but just arrived, when he happened to go into a lodge where a young man, a son of Ta-bush-shish, was beating an old woman. Wa-me-gon-a-biew held his arms, but presently old Ta-bush-shish coming in, and in his drunkenness probably misapprehending the nature of my brother’s interference, seized him by the hair and bit his nose off. At this stage of the affair, Be-gwa-is, an old chief who had always been very friendly to us, came in, and seeing that a scuffle was going on, thought it necessary to join in it. Wa-me-gon-a-biew perceiving the loss of his nose, suddenly raised his hands, though still stooping his head, and seizing by the hair the head that was nearest him, bit the nose off. It happened to be that of our friend Be-gwa-is. After his rage had a little abated, he recognized his friend, and exclaimed, “wah! my cousin!” Be-gwa-is was a kind and good man, and being perfectly aware of the erroneous impression under which Wa-me-gon-a-biew had acted, never for one moment betrayed any thing like anger or resentment towards the man who had thus been the unwilling cause of his mutilation. “I am an old man,” said he, “and it is but a short time that they will laugh at me for the loss of my nose.”
For my own part, I felt much irritated against Ta-bush-shish, inasmuch as I doubted whether he had not taken the present opportunity to wreak an old grudge upon Wa-me-gon-a-biew. I went into my brother’s lodge, and sat by him. His face and all his clothes were covered with blood. For some time he said nothing, and when he spoke, I found that he was perfectly sober. “Tomorrow,” said he, “I will cry with my children, and the next day I will go and see Ta-bush-shish. We must die together, as I am not willing to live when I must always expect to be ridiculed.” I told him I would join him in any attempt to kill Ta-bush-shish, and held myself in readiness accordingly. But a little sober reflection, and the day’s time he had given himself to cry with his children, diverted Wa-me-gon-a-biew from his bloody intention, and like Be-gwa-is, he resolved to bear his loss as well as he could.
CHAPTER X
Presence of mind and self-devotedness in an Indian mother. – Indian warfare. – Conversation of a chief. – Winter hunt on the Begwionusko River. – Medicine hunting. – Customs, in cases of manslaughter. – Symbolic, or picture writing. – Death of Pe-shau-ba. – Disaster at Spirit Lake, and death of the Little Clam.
Within a few days after this drunken quarrel, Ta-bush-shish was seized with a violent sickness. He had for many days a burning fever, his flesh wasted, and he was apparently near dying when he sent to Wa-me-gon-a-biew two kettles, and other presents, of considerable value, with a message, “My friend, I have made you look ugly, and you have made me sick. I have suffered much, and if I die now my children must suffer much more. I have sent you this present, that you may let me live.” Wa-me-gon-a-biew instructed his messenger to say to Ta-bush-shish, “I have not made you sick. I cannot restore you to health, and will not accept your presents.” He lingered for a month or more in a state of such severe illness that his hair all fell from his head. After this he began to amend, and when he was nearly well, we all removed to the prairie, but were scattered about in different directions, and at considerable distances from each other.