There were six of us to return together to the Lake of the Woods, and our principal man, She-gwaw-koo-sink, being alarmed, took a little canoe and set off in the night. I would not start then, nor even early in the morning, lest Wa-me-gon-a-biew should think I was afraid of him. I remained near his lodge until I had seen him and Net-no-kwa, and shaken hands with all my friends, and at about noon I was ready to follow She-gwaw-koo-sink, whom I found waiting for me in the woods. Wa-me-gon-a-biew made no complaints of my having killed his horse. Probably he was perfectly satisfied that I had done so, as an Indian always expects any outrage he commits shall be retaliated, according to their customs, and a man who omits to take proper revenge is but lightly esteemed among them.
Heavy snow and severe cold came upon us at the Muskeeg carrying place; the trees cracked with the cold, but the water in the swamp was not yet frozen hard enough to bear. Our canoes, however, could not be pushed through. The utmost exertion of our strength would no longer avail to move them. We were hungry and much fatigued, and sat deliberating what was best to be done when we discovered our women coming from the Lake of the Woods, and dragging their light canoes through water, ice, and snow above their knees. When they came up, we found they were my wife, the wives of She-gwaw-koo-sink and Ba-po-wash, and my mother-in-law. Three of our party, whose women had not come, had to continue on to Lake of the Woods. Our wives laughed at us, telling us it was more like old women than like warriors returning to their village, to sit shivering in a canoe which could move neither way, through fear of a little water and ice. They had brought us a supply of corn, sturgeon, and other food, and with them we returned to our last encampment where we rested a few days, then went down to Red River with the intention of spending the winter there.
There was now no snow on the ground at Red River, though the weather was very cold, and the ground so hard frozen that it was nearly impossible to kill any game. I hunted day after day without the least success, and we were reduced to extreme hunger, when one day I found a moose, and after I had, with the greatest difficulty, crept near, I was about to shoot him, when my best dog, which I had confined at home, came running past me, and scared the moose away. I returned home, and calling my dog to me outside the lodge, I told him that it was his fault that there was now no food for my children. I then killed and gave him to my family to eat.
Other families beside my own being in distress for the want of food, the Indians called on me to make a medicine hunt. I accordingly told Me-zhick-ko-naum to go for my drum, and as preparatory to the commencement of my prayers and songs, I directed all my family to take such positions as they could keep for at least half the night, as, after I began, no one must move until I had finished. I have always been conscious of my entire dependence on a superior and invisible Power, but I have felt this conviction most powerfully in times of distress and danger. I now prayed earnestly, and with the consciousness that I addressed myself to a Being willing to hear and able to assist, and I called upon him to see and to pity the sufferings of my family. The next day I killed a moose, and soon after, a heavy snow having fallen, we were relieved from the apprehension of immediate starvation.
But though we were temporarily relieved, plenty did not return to us. I was about this time hunting one day, and fell on the track of a bear. My dogs followed for three days, and most of the time I kept nearly even pace with them, but at the end of that time they had not overtaken him. My moccasins and leggings were worn out, and I was almost in a state of starvation. I was compelled to return home, having killed nothing but eight pheasants. Me-zhick-ko-naum, Ba-po-wash, and the other Indians, now left me by myself, and I was soon able to kill enough to supply the wants of my family. I spent the winter here, and in the spring my friends rejoined me, and we returned together to our village at the Lake of the Woods.
At Me-nau-zhe-tau-naung great misfortunes awaited me. I omitted to mention an event of some importance, which happened long before the time I have now arrived at, being a very short time after the death of my friend Pe-shau-ba. I was then at Dead River, at our corn fields, where an Ojibbeway of Red Lake, called Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo, came to my lodge in my absence, and took away one of my sons, a boy six years old. On my return, my wife told me what had happened, and I immediately pursued, and overtaking Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo at the distance of one day’s journey, without his consent took one of his horses to bring my son back. I threatened him that if he should make any similar attempt in future, he should not escape unpunished. But about four months after, when the snow was on the ground, I returned home from my days’ hunt to hear the same account of my son being taken away by Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo. I now felt much irritated, and having inquired from the men in my lodge what horse he rode, I mounted my best, and pursued after him. They had lately moved from the place where I found them before, but following on, I overtook them on their journey. As I was coming near their party, I discovered Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo and another man, called Na-na-bush, watching for me in the bushes, a little behind their party. Before I came within gunshot, I called out to let them know I had discovered them, and holding my gun in my hand, cocked, and in a position for immediate use, I passed them, overtook the party, and discovering my little boy, without dismounting I stooped down and lifted him into my lap; then turning back, went to meet Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo and Na-na-bush. They had now left the thicket, and were standing in the path, the former holding his favourite horse by the halter. When I rode up to them, I left my son on the horse with the reins in his hand, got down, and stabbed Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo’s horse twice with a large knife I had carried for the purpose. He clubbed his gun, and was about to strike me, but I caught it in descending, and wrested it out of his hands. He threatened he would shoot my horse whenever he could get a gun. I handed his own to him, and told him to shoot the horse now, but he dared not. “It seems,” said I, “you have forgotten what I told you four months since, when you took away my son before; but I have not forgotten it, as you see. I am disposed to kill you now, but as you are so much frightened, I will let you live, to see if you will steal away any of my children hereafter.” With this I left him. My friends could scarce believe I had killed his horse, but they did not blame me, neither did Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo. At least I never heard that he complained of it, and at the time he molested me no more.
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.