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.
I had no pukkwi, or mats, for a lodge, and therefore had to build one of poles and long grass. I dressed moose skins, made my own moccasins and leggins, and those for my children; cut wood and cooked for myself and my family, made my snow shoes, etc. etc. All the attention and labour I had to bestow about home, sometimes kept me from hunting, and I was occasionally distressed for want of provisions. I busied myself about my lodge in the night time. When it was sufficiently light, I would bring wood, and attend to other things without; at other times I was repairing my snow shoes, or my own or my children’s clothes. For nearly all the winter, I slept but a very small part of each night.
I was still living in this way in the spring, when a young man called Se-bis-kuk-gu-un-na, (tough legs,) a son of Wau-zhe-gaw-maish-koon, who was now dead, came to me. He was in a starving condition, as were his friends, who were encamped at no great distance from me. My dogs were now so well trained, that they could draw half a moose. I put on a full load of meat, and told him to go with the team, meet his people, and bring them to live with me. In three days they arrived, but though their hunger had been relieved by the supply I sent them, their appearance was extremely miserable, and it is probable they must have perished if they had not found me.
As the spring was approaching, we returned to the Lake of the Woods. Ice was still in the lake when we arrived on the shore of it, and as I, with my companions, was standing on the shore, I saw an otter coming on the ice at a distance. I had often heard the Indians say that the strongest man, without arms of some kind, cannot kill an otter. Pe-shau-ba, and other strong men and good hunters, had told me this, but I still doubted it. I now, therefore, proposed to test the truth of this common opinion. I caught the otter, and for the space of an hour or more, exerted myself, to the extent of my power, to kill him. I beat him, and kicked him, and jumped upon him, but all to no purpose. I tried to strangle him with my hands, but after lying still for a time, he would shorten his neck, and draw his head down between my hands, so that the breath would pass through, and I was at last compelled to acknowledge that I was not able to kill him without arms. There are other small, and apparently not very strong animals which an unarmed man cannot kill. Once while on a war party, in a sort of bravado, I had tried to kill a pole cat with my naked hands, but I had nearly lost my eyes by the means. The liquid which he threw upon my face caused a painful inflammation, and the skin came off. The white crane, also, is dangerous if approached too near; they can, and sometimes do, inflict mortal wounds with their sharp beaks.