usual, from the fact of finding ourselves below the rapids, and consequently knowing that we must be near the lake. Our first certain indication of our proximity to it, was, however, given by hearing the monotonous thump of an Indian drum. We soon after came in sight of camp fires, with Indian forms passing before them.—And we found ourselves, on landing, in the midst of former Indian acquaintances. Among them were Mongazid (Loon’s Foot,) the second Chief of Fond du Lac, and Chamees, (Pouncing Hawk,) a young man who had first recommended himself to notice in 1820, by guiding a part of Governor Cass’ expedition above the Knife Portage, and who evinced the same disposition, during the forepart of the present summer, by acting as a guide to the party, between Fond du Lac and Sandy Lake. We were pleased on observing the military boat, used by Lieutenant Allen on the lake, safely moored, with its sails and tackle, within the mouth of the river, having been brought down, agreeably to promise, by Mongazid, who had faithfully remained in charge of it.
The day following, being the Sabbath, was spent at this place. And the narrative of our route from the Mississippi, may here be appropriately closed. Some remarks arising from observations on the condition of the Indians, among whom we have passed, it may be proper to add; but from the little leisure we can command, they are necessarily few and brief.
The Chippewas are spread over a very large area in the north, divided into local bands, and separated by extensive tracts which are, in great part, sterile. They are not fixed in their habitations at any point, during the whole of the year, being compelled to go in search of the game, fish, and other spontaneous productions, on which they depend. The space which each band periodically traverses, in this effort, is extensive, and subjects them to casualties, which they would otherwise escape. Their condition is still further imbittered by hostilities with the Sioux tribes, who occupy the whole line of their western frontier. They cover the entire north-western angle of the United States, extending down the Mississippi valley on both banks, as low as the Wadub, being the first stream above Sac river. At this point their territorial line crosses from the west to the east banks of the Mississippi, pursuing a southerly course, at the distance of about forty miles from it, until it intersects the lands of the Winnebagoes, north of the Wisconsin. This portion of the territory affords decidedly the largest and best body of farming lands in their possession, and will, probably, hereafter yield them, either by the proceeds of its sale, or cultivation, a more sure reliance at a period when the land becomes divested of game. The climate of this area is comparatively mild, and the Indians who inhabit it, notwithstanding their partial losses from wars, have evidently increased in population. They might be concentrated here, could the agricultural be substituted for the hunter life—a result which may be expected to follow, but cannot in any reasonable estimate be expected to precede, their conversion to christianity.
This tribe offer no prominent obstacles to the introduction of the gospel. We have before adverted to the slender frame work of their native religion, which seems to be made up, primarily of certain superstitious ceremonies, winding themselves about the subject of medicine. It appears to occupy that void in the barbaric mind, which the soothsayers and magii of other lands, pressed forward, in the absence of revelation, to fill. But we do not know that the ritual has any striking features in common. The principal obstacle which missionaries will have to contend with, is a want of the knowledge of their language. And to surmount this is a labor which they cannot too early begin nor too zealously persevere in. The language itself, as we have before indicated, (vide Chap. X.) presents a copious vocabulary, and is capable of being made the medium of religious instruction. It has some defects which will require to be supplied, and some redundancies which will demand curtailment, when it comes to be written. But they offer very slight obstacles to oral communication. It is obviously better suited to convey narrative than disquisitive matter. And has been so long applied to corporeal objects, that it requires caution and a familiar knowledge of its idioms, in the conveyance of intellectual and still more of spiritual conceptions.
In mere externals, the Chippewas are not essentially different from other tribes of the Algonquin stock in the western country. And the points in which a difference holds, may be supposed to have been, for the most part, the effects of a more ungenial climate. They are, to a less extent than most of the tribes, cultivators of the soil, and more exclusively hunters and warriors. Living in a portion of the continent, remarkable for the number of its large and small lakes, they find a common resource in fish, and along with this, enjoy the advantage of reaping the wild rice.
Their government has been deemed a paradox, at the same time exercising, and too feeble to exercise power. But it is not more paradoxical than all patriarchal governments, which have their tie in filial affection, and owe their weakness to versatility of opinion. War and other public calamities bring them together, while prosperity drives them apart. They rally on public danger, with wonderful facility, and they disperse with equal quickness. All their efforts are of the partizan, popular kind. And if these do not succeed they are dispirited. There is nothing in their institutions and resources suited for long continued, steady exertion.
The most striking trait in their moral history is the institution of the Totem—a sign manual, by which the affiliation of families is traced, agreeing, more exactly, perhaps, than has been supposed, with the armorial bearings of the feudal ages. And this institution is kept up, with a feeling of importance, which it is difficult to account for. An Indian, as is well known, will tell his specific name with great reluctance, but his generic or family name—in other words, his Totem, he will declare without hesitation, and with an evident feeling of pride.
None of our tribes have proceeded further than the first rude steps in hieroglyphic writing. And it is a practice in which the Chippewas are peculiarly expert. No part of their country can be visited without bringing this trait into prominent notice. Every path has its blazed and figured trees, conveying intelligence to all who pass, for all can read and understand these signs. They are taught to the young as carefully as our alphabet, with the distinction, however, that hieroglyphic writing, is the prerogative of the males. These devices are often traced on sheets of birch bark attached to poles. They are traced on war-clubs, on canoe paddles, bows or gun stocks. They are often drawn on skins, particularly those used as back dresses, by warriors. They have also other hieroglyphic modes of communicating information, by poles with knots of grass attached to them, or rings of paint. and often by antlers, or animals’ heads suspended by the banks of rivers.
The following tale is added as an example of the kind of imaginative lore indicated by it.
ORIGIN OF THE WHITE-FISH.
In ancient times when the Indians were better than they now are, when their laws were enforced by the chiefs, and when every crime was promptly punished, there lived a noted hunter and a just man, at a remote point on the north shore of Lake Superior. He had a wife and two sons, who were usually left in the lodge, while he went out in quest of the animals upon whose flesh they subsisted. As game was then abundant, his exertions were well rewarded, and he lived in the enjoyment of every blessing. But there was at this time a venom preparing for his heart, which was not the less poisonous, because it was for a time kept in secret. His two little sons had observed the visits of a neighboring hunter, during the absence of their father, and they ventured to remonstrate with their mother on the propriety of receiving clandestine visits, but she was in no temper to be reasoned with. She rebuked them sharply, and finally, on their intimation of disclosing the secret, threatened to kill them if they made any disclosure They were frightened into silence. But observing the continuance of an improper intercourse, kept up by stealth as it were, they resolved at last to disclose the whole matter to their father. The result was such as might be anticipated. The father being satisfied with the infidelity of his wife, took up a war club at a moment when he was not perceived, and with a single blow despatched the object of his jealousy. He then buried her under the ashes of his fire, took down his lodge, and removed to a distant position.
But the spirit of the woman haunted the children who were now grown up to the estate of young men. She appeared to them in the shadows of evening. She terrified them in dreams. She harassed their imaginations wherever they went, so that their life was a life of perpetual terrors. They resolved to leave the country, and commenced a journey of many days towards the south. They at length came to the Poiwateeg falls. (St. Mary’s.) But they had no sooner come in sight of these falls, than they beheld the skull of the woman (their mother)