Henry Rowe Schoolcraft

The American Indians


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my fellow man.

      By being broken into syllables, to correspond with a simple chant, and by the power of intonation and repetition, with a chorus, these words are expanded into melodious utterance, if we may be allowed the term, and may be thus rendered:

      Windy god, I know your plan,

       You are but my fellow man,

       Blow you may your coldest breeze,

       Shingebiss you cannot freeze,

       Sweep the strongest wind you can,

       Shingebiss is still your man,

       Heigh! for life—and ho! for bliss,

       Who so free as Shingebiss?

      The hunter knew that Kabebonicca was at his door, for he felt his cold and strong breath; but he kept on singing his songs, and affected utter indifference. At length Kabebonicca entered, and took his seat on the opposite side of the lodge. But Shingebiss did not regard, or notice him. He got up, as if nobody were present, and taking his poker, pushed the log, which made his fire burn brighter, repeating as he sat down again:

      You are but my fellow man.

      Very soon the tears began to flow down Kabebonicca's cheeks, which increased so fast, that, presently, he said to himself, "I cannot stand this—I must go out." He did so, and left Shingebiss to his songs; but resolved to freeze up all the flag orifices, and make the ice thick, so that he could not get any more fish. Still Shingebiss, by dint of great diligence, found means to pull up new roots, and dive under for fish. At last Kabebonicca was compelled to give up the contest. "He must be aided by some Monedo," said he, "I can neither freeze him, nor starve him, he is a very singular being—I will let him alone."

      The introduction of the Saxon race into North America, has had three determined opponents, the life of each of whom forms a distinct era. They were Powhatan, Metakom, and Pontiac. Each pursued the same method to accomplish his end, and each was the indominitable foe of the race.—Sassacus ought, perhaps, to be added to the number. Brant, was but a partisan, and fought for one branch, against another. Tecumseh, was also, rather the foe of the American type of the race, than the whole race. The same can be said of lesser men, such as Little Turtle, Buckanjaheela, and Black Hawk. Uncas was also a partisan, not a hater of the white race, and like Waub Ojeeg in the north, fought, that one tribe might prevail over another. If the Saxon race profited by this, he could not help it. Tuscaloosa fought for his tribe's supremacy; Osceola for revenge.

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      There lived a noted chief on the north banks of the St. Lawrence in the latter part of the 16th century, who was called by the Iroquois, Piskaret, but the true pronunciation of whose name, by his own people, was Bisconace, or the Little Blaze. Names are often arbitrarily bestowed by the Indians, from some trivial circumstance in domestic life, or hunting, as mere nick names, which take the place of the real names: for it is a practice among this people to conceal their real names, from a subtle, superstitious notion, that, if so known, they will be under the power of priestly incantation, or some other evil influence.

      What the real name of this man was, if it differed from the above, is not known, as this was his only appellation. He was an Adirondak: that is to say, one of the race of people who were called Adirondaks by the Iroquois, but Algonquins by the French. And as the Algonquins and Iroquois, had lately became deadly enemies and were so then, the distinction to which Bisconace rose, was in the conducting of the war which his people waged against the Iroquois, or Five Nations.

      It seems, from the accounts of both English and French authors, that the Algonquins, at the period of the first settlement of the St. Lawrence, were by far the most advanced in arts and knowledge, and most distinguished for skill in war and hunting, of all the nations in North America. This at least is certain, that no chief, far or near, enjoyed as high a reputation for daring valor and skill as Bisconace. He is spoken of in this light by all who name him; he was so fierce, subtle and indomitable that he became the terror of his enemies, who were startled at the very mention of his name. Bisconace lived on the north banks of the St. Lawrence, below Montreal, and carried on his wars against the Indians inhabiting the northern parts of the present state of New York, often proceeding by the course of the River Sorel.

      The period of the Adirondak supremacy, embraced the close of the 15th century and the beginning of the 16th, and at this time the people began to derive great power and boldness, from the possession of fire arms, with which the French supplied them, before their southern and western neighbours came to participate in this great improvement, this striking era of the Red man, in the art of war. Golden is thought to be a little out, in the great estimate he furnishes of the power, influence, and advances of this great family of the Red Race. The French naturally puffed them up a good deal; but we may admit that they were most expert warriors, and hunters, and manufactured arms and canoes, with great skill. They were the prominent enemies of the Five Nations; and like all enemies at a distance had a formidable name. The word Adirondak is one of Iroquois origin; but the French, who always gave their own names to the Tribes, and had a policy in so doing, called them Algonquins—a term whose origin is involved in some obscurity. For a time, they prevailed against their enemies south of the St. Lawrence, but the latter were soon furnished with arms by the Dutch, who entered the Hudson in 1609, and their allies, the Iracoson, or Iroquois, soon assumed that rank in war which, if they had before lacked, raised them to so high a point of preeminence. It was in that early period of the history of these nations that Bisconace exerted his power.

      Where a people have neither history nor biography, there is but little hope that tradition will long preserve the memory of events. Some of the acts of this chief are known through the earlier colonial writers. So great was the confidence inspired in the breast of this chief, by the use of fire arms, that he pushed into the Iroquois country like a mad man, and performed some feats against a people armed with bows only, which are astonishing.

      With only four chiefs to aid him, he left Trois Rivieres, on one occasion, in a single canoe, with fifteen loaded muskets, thus giving three pieces, to each man. Each piece was charged with two balls, joined by a small chain ten inches long. Soon after entering the Sorel river, he encountered five bark canoes of Iroquois, each having ten men. To cloak his ruse he pretended to give himself up for lost, in view of such a disparity of numbers; and he and his companions began to sing their death song. They had no sooner got near their enemies, however, than they began to pour in their chain-shot, riddling the frail canoes of the enemy, who tumbled into the water, and sank under the active blows of their adversaries. Some he saved to grace his triumphant return, and these were tortured at the stake.

      On another occasion he undertook an enterprize alone. Being well acquainted with the Iroquois country, he set out, about the time the snow began to melt, taking the precaution to put the hinder part of his snow-shoes forward to mislead the enemy, in case his track should be discovered. As a further precaution, he avoided the plain forest paths, keeping along the ridges and high stony grounds, where the snow was melting, that his track might be often lost. When he came near to one of the Villages of the Five Nations, he hid himself till night. He then crept forth, and entered a lodge, where he found every soul asleep. Having killed them all, he took their scalps, and went back to his lurking place. The next day the people of the village searched in vain for the perpetrator. At night he again sallied forth, and repeated the act, on another lodge, with equal secrecy and success. Again the villagers searched, but could find no traces of his footsteps. They determined, however, to set a watch. Piskaret, anticipating this, gathered up his scalps, and stole forth slyly, but found the inhabitants of every lodge on the alert, save one, where the sentinel had fallen asleep. This man he despatched and scalped, but alarmed the rest, who rose in the pursuit. He was, however, under no great fears of being overtaken. One of the causes of his great confidence