It was on the same day, as we afterwards heard, that the war-party from Leech Lake, which Wa-ge-tone had joined, fell upon forty Sioux lodges at the long prairie. They had fought for two days, and many were killed on each side. Wa-ge-tone was the first man to strike a Sioux lodge. Wah-ka-zhe, the brother of Muk-kud-da-be-na-sa, met those Ottawwaws who returned from the Wild Rice River at Lake Winnipeg. He had been ten years in the Rocky Mountains and the country near them, but now wished to return to his own people. He had, in the course of his long life, been much among the whites, and was well acquainted with the different methods of gaining a subsistence among them. He told me that I would be much better situated among the whites, but that I could not become a trader, as I was unable to write. I should not like to submit to constant labour, therefore I could not be a farmer. There was but one situation exactly adapted to my habits and qualifications, that of an interpreter.
He gave us, among other information, some account of a missionary who had come among the Ottawwaws of Waw-gun-uk-kezie, or some of the Indian settlements about the lakes, and urged them to renounce their own religion, and adopt that of the whites. In connection with this subject, he told us the anecdote of the baptized Indian, who, after death, went to the gate of the white man’s heaven, and demanded admittance; but the man who kept watch at the gate told him no redskins could be allowed to enter there. “Go,” said he, “for to the west there are the villages and the hunting grounds of those of your own people who have been on the earth before you.” So he departed thence, but when he came to the villages where the dead of his own people resided, the chief refused him admittance. “You have been ashamed of us while you lived. You have chosen to worship the white man’s God. Go now to his village, and let him provide for you.” Thus he was rejected by both parties.
Wah-ka-zhe being the most considerable man among us, it devolved on him to direct our movements, but through indolence, or perhaps out of regard to me, he determined that not only himself, but his band, should, for the winter, be guided by me. As we had in view no object beyond bare subsistence, and as I was reckoned a very good hunter, and knew this part of the country better than any other man of the band, his course was not an impolitic one.
It was in conformity to my advice that we went to spend the winter at the Be-gwi-o-nush-ko River. The Be-gwi-o-nush-ko enters Red River about ten miles below Pembinah, and at the time I speak of, the country on it was well stocked with game. We lived here in great plenty and comfort, and Wah-ka-zhe often boasted of his sagacity in choosing me to direct the motions of his party. But a part of the winter had passed when Wa-me-gon-a-biew began to talk of sacrificing Wah-ka-zhe, the latter being in some manner connected with the man who, many years before, had killed Taw-ga-we-ninne, Wa-me-gon-a-biew’s father. I refused to join, or in any manner countenance him in this undertaking, but notwithstanding my remonstrances, he went one day to the lodge of Wah-ka-zhe with his knife in his hand, intending to kill him, but as he was entering, Muk-kud-da-be-na-sa, a son of Wah-ka-zhe, perceived his intention and prevented him. He immediately tried to provoke Wa-me-gon-a-biew to engage him in single combat, but he retreated in his accustomed manner. I not only reproved Wa-me-gon-a-biew for this unmanly conduct, but proposed to Wah-ka-zhe to have him driven from the band, and no longer considered him my brother, but Wah-ka-zhe was a considerate and friendly man, and unwilling that trouble or disturbance should be made, and therefore forgave his offence.
One of the young men, the son of Wah-ka-zhe, was accounted the best hunter among the Indians of this band, and there was, between us, while we resided at Be-gwi-o-nush-ko, a friendly rivalry in hunting. O-ke-mah-we-ninne, as he was called, killed nineteen moose, one beaver, and one bear. I killed seventeen moose, one hundred beavers, and seven bears, but he was considered the better hunter, moose being the most difficult of all animals to kill. There are many Indians who hunt through the winter in that country, and kill no more than two or three moose, and some never are able to kill one.
We had plenty of game at the Be-gwi-o-nush-ko, until another band of Ojibbeways came upon us in great numbers, and in a starving condition. While we were in this situation, and many of those who had recently joined us on the point of perishing with hunger, a man called Gish-kaw-ko, the nephew of him by whom I was taken prisoner, went a hunting, and in one day killed two moose. He called me to go with him and get some meat, at the same time signifying his intention to keep his success concealed from the remainder of the band, but I refused to have any part with him in such a transaction. I immediately started on a hunt with Muk-kud-da-be-na-sa, and one or two others, and we having good luck, killed four bears, which we distributed among the hungry.
We now found it necessary for our large party to disperse in various directions. With Muk-kud-da-be-na-sa, Black Bird, and Wah-ka-zhe, and one other man, I went and encamped at the distance of two days’ journey from the place where we had been living. While here, we all started together one morning to hunt, but in the course of the day scattered from each other. Late at night I returned, and was surprised to find, in place of our lodge, nothing remaining but a little pile of the dried grass we had used for a bed. Under this I found Black Bird, who, having come in but a little before me, and after the removal of the lodge, had laid down to sleep, supposing himself the only one left behind. As we followed the trail of our companions on the succeeding day, we met messengers coming to inform us that the son of Nah-gitch-e-gum-me, the man, who with Wah-ka-zhe, had left us so unexpectedly, had killed himself by an accidental discharge of his gun. The young man had been resting carelessly on the muzzle of his gun, when the butt slipping from the snow-shoe on which he had placed it. It had fired, and the contents passing through the arm-pit, had entered his head, but though so shockingly wounded, the young man lived twenty days in a state of stupor and insensibility, and then died. The Indians attributed to a presentiment of evil on the part of Nah-gitch-e-gum-me and Wah-ka-zhe, their abrupt abandonment of Black Bird and myself.
Shortly after this we were so reduced by hunger that it was thought necessary to have recourse to a medicine hunt. Nah-gitch-e-gum-me sent to me and O-ge-mah-we-ninne, the two best hunters of the band, each a little leather sack of medicine, consisting of certain roots, pounded fine and mixed with red paint, to be applied to the little images or figures of the animals we wished to kill. Precisely the same method is practised in this kind of hunting, at least as far as the use of medicine is concerned, as in those instances where one Indian attempts to inflict disease or suffering on another. A drawing, or a little image, is made to represent the man, the woman, or the animal, on which the power of the medicine is to be tried; then the part representing the heart is punctured with a sharp instrument, if the design be to cause death, and a little of the medicine is applied. The drawing or image of an animal used in this case is called muzzi-ne-neen, muzzi-ne-neen-ug, (pl.) and the same name is applicable to the little figures of a man or woman, and is sometimes rudely traced on birch bark, in other instances more carefully carved of wood. We started with much confidence of success, but Wah-ka-zhe followed, and overtaking us at some distance, cautioned us against using the medicine Nah-gitch-e-gum-me had given us, as he said it would be the means of mischief and misery to us, not at present, but when we came to die. We therefore did not make use of it, but nevertheless, happening to kill some game, Nah-gitch-e-gum-me thought himself, on account of the supposed efficacy of his medicine, entitled to a handsome share of it. Finding that hunger was like to press severely upon us, I separated from the band and went to live by myself, feeling always confident that by so doing I could ensure a plentiful supply for the wants of my family. Wah-ka-zhe and Black Bird came to Lake Winnipeg, from whence they did not return, as I had expected they would.