Rainy Lake House

by Theodore Catton

  The deaths of Taw-ga-we-ninne and Ke-wa-tin drew Tanner closer to his Indian family. Although in the preceding three years he had been treated fairly well by them, there were also constant reminders of his status as an adopted child and cultural outsider, and so he had remained emotionally distant. In the aftermath of these two deaths, that changed. The family’s dire circumstances stirred in the thirteen-year-old a new sense of interdependence. His role in the family suddenly was magnified. His grieving Indian mother showered him with affection, while his one remaining Indian brother, Wa-me-gon-a-biew, treated him much as he had behaved toward his blood brother, Ke-wa-tin. That winter, after the family set up camp near the Grand Portage trading post, Wa-me-gon-a-biew took Tanner with him whenever he went out hunting. Wa-me-gon-a-biew was seventeen, not yet experienced or mature enough to wear the mantle of principal hunter. Though the boys would be out several days at a time in their quest for game, they often returned empty-handed. Despite their lack of success, it was on these hunting forays that Tanner experienced the first glimmers of manhood.

  Ke-wa-tin’s death also changed the family dynamics in another way. As Wa-me-gon-a-biew and Tanner were now Net-no-kwa’s only surviving sons, they developed an intense sibling rivalry that would continue into their adult lives. Tanner began to compete with his Indian brother for their mother’s favor. In time, Tanner would displace Wa-me-gon-a-biew as principal hunter and form a remarkably tight bond with Net-no-kwa while the natural son floundered and drifted in and out of their family group. The brothers’ competition for the mother’s love propelled the young Tanner toward becoming Indian.

  On one of their hunting trips that winter, the two boys attempted to cross a river that did not freeze over as solidly as most because of its swift current. As they had been hearing the trees crack in the severe cold, they thought the river ice would be firm. But they broke through, Tanner going in up to his knees and Wa-me-gon-a-biew getting completely wet in his frantic efforts to squirm out of the hole and spread his weight before the rest of the ice collapsed under him. When they reached the riverbank they knew they must quickly get out of their wet clothes or face certain death. But with their hands and fingers going numb, they could barely work the leather laces of their snowshoes, moccasins, and leggings. After at last removing his freezing things, Tanner was dismayed to see his half-naked brother seek out a place on the riverbank where the wind had blown away the snow. There, Wa-me-gon-a-biew quietly lay down to die. Tanner, determined not to perish that way, walked in circles to get his blood flowing again. Then he searched out a rotten tree stump under the snow and dug into it to get some dry punk to tinder a fire. Once he accomplished it, his brother roused himself to assist in gathering wood, and with the aid of a good blaze they were able to get through the night. The episode left a deep impression on Tanner. Forever after, he was unable to shake his disappointment with Wa-me-gon-a-biew for having resigned himself to death that day.10

  As the brothers managed to kill very little game during the winter, it is likely that Net-no-kwa obtained at least some food for the family at the trading post. That would explain why they made their winter camp nearby, even though they knew game would be scarce in the area. They may have received food from the traders themselves or, more likely, from other Indians who came and went.11

  Late in the winter an Ojibwa man came to their lodge and, being informed by the traders that they had very little to eat, he invited them to accompany him to his own lodge two days’ journey to the west, where he would provide for them until spring. Generosity between perfect strangers was common among Algonquian peoples and formed a critical part of their adaptation to the harsh northern winters. Implicit in the man’s offer was the understanding that if he or his kin were ever to encounter Net-no-kwa’s people when they themselves were in need, then they might expect a like kindness in turn. Such reciprocity provided a social safety net that could spell the difference between life and death when a small subsistence group lost its principal hunter. Insofar as the fur trade drew Algonquian peoples from a subsistence economy into a money economy, it tended to erode that ethic. Many years later, Tanner would comment in his autobiography that this man’s generous behavior was already, in the year 1795, something of a throwback; it was no longer typical of the Ottawas and Ojibwas living farther east, who were more attuned to the white man’s philosophy of self-­interest.12 Net-no-kwa’s family lived with this man for several weeks, returning to Grand Portage in the spring when he did.

  After a few days back at Grand Portage, Net-no-kwa and her family accepted a similar invitation by another man of the same Ojibwa band. But this time the invitation was to travel in the other direction, out across the ice-cold waters of Lake Superior to Isle Royale. They soon began to address this man, like the other, as their brother-in-law. The familial title was an acknowledgment of their obligation to remember his kindness whenever they might see him again.

  On reaching Isle Royale with their new provider, they immediately speared two large sturgeon. While the women set to cutting and drying the meat, their new brother-in-law showed the boys where they could find gulls’ eggs along the island’s rocky shore. The next day he went off by himself to hunt, returning in the evening having killed two caribou. After the gnawing hunger they had experienced over the winter, the island’s bounty and the hunter’s assuredness came as a welcome change. They stayed with him on Isle Royale through the spring, enjoying an easy life of catching beaver, otter, and other game, which they found in plenty around a clear, shallow lake in the interior of the island.13

  Near the start of summer their benefactor’s band joined them on Isle Royale, arriving in eight canoes. They all camped together on the lakeshore, waiting for a windless day to make the hazardous passage back to the mainland. On the chosen day, they all started out together in ten canoes. When they had paddled just a few hundred yards out into Lake Superior, they paused to offer a prayer to the spirit of the deep. The chief, or principal man of the group, in the lead canoe, shouted in a loud voice for all to hear, praying that the waters should remain calm for their journey. Speaking in this vein for five or ten minutes, he threw a pinch of tobacco into the lake. Then he began a song, which everyone joined in singing.

  Tanner was deeply moved by this occasion, observing how solemnly the Indians listened to the chief’s prayer. He reflected that they must indeed be placing their trust in some sort of higher power to deliver them safely across the great lake. If Tanner did not fully accept the Indians’ religion at this point in his life, he now realized that he did not remember anything about the whites’ religion either. And not only had he forgotten the white man’s religion, he had practically forgotten the white man’s language, too. Indeed, he had almost forgotten the name of his white family—was it Tanner or Taylor? His first Ottawa family had renamed him Shaw-shaw-wa be-na-se (the Swallow) and he had gone by that name ever since. After the pleasant months on Isle Royale, he felt a warm attachment to his Indian relatives such as he had never felt before.14

  Soon after the band landed safely at Grand Portage, the young Tanner experienced another epiphany. It was that time of year when the white fur traders gathered in great numbers and the place became a hive of activity. Yet, to his surprise, Net-no-kwa gave him complete freedom to go where he pleased. She had kept him under watch when they were there the previous summer. And before that, whenever they visited Mackinac, she had kept him well hidden from the traders. Now, he realized, she was allowing him to go over to the whites if that was what he chose to do. It seems that Tanner and Net-no-kwa never had a conversation about this; he simply had to work out the problem in his own mind. As he observed the French Canadian voyageurs going about their chores, following the commands of the British, their lot did not compare favorably with the easy times he had just experienced on Isle Royale. He remembered, too, what he had seen on the farms in Kentucky: it was a toilsome life compared to that of a hunter. He also reckoned that he would have to reenter the white man’s world as a pauper,
without relatives or friends or support of any kind, whereas among Indians a person who had nothing could find relatives or friends or even a perfect stranger who would give him shelter and food aplenty. Weighing all that in his mind, the fourteen-year-old boy came to his first adult decision: he would choose an Indian life.15

  Net-no-kwa, meanwhile, deliberated over her family’s next move. Thus far, the journey from Lake Huron had taken the lives of her husband and son; now she was aggrieved to learn from the traders that her son-in-law had died in a drunken brawl at far away Moose Lake the past winter. Her daughter, the traders said, awaited her at Rainy Lake. What ought to have been a journey of a few months had turned into an ordeal that was killing off the family. It was midsummer by the time Net-no-kwa made up her mind: they must go as far as Rainy Lake to reunite with her daughter. Once there, they would decide whether to return to Lake Huron or go on to the Red River.

  At Rainy Lake they found her daughter in the care of other Indians, mourning her husband’s death. Tanner and his brother listened and overheard as Net-no-kwa and their older sister argued over where the family should go—or which relatives they should seek out—before the onset of winter. Net-no-kwa recounted the family’s heavy losses and urged that they stick to the original plan of going to the Red River to hunt beaver. There they would find the relatives of Taw-ga-we-ninne and inform them of his untimely death, expecting to rely on their support. At length Net-no-kwa prevailed (as she always did), and the westward journey was resumed.16

  But Net-no-kwa could not go on forever being the family’s pillar of strength. After passing through Lake of the Woods and canoeing down the Winnipeg River, the family arrived at Lake Winnipeg, where the traders had a fort called Bas de la Rivière. There, Net-no-kwa obtained some traders’ rum and proceeded to get dead drunk. Her children had seldom seen her so intoxicated. Fearful of what might befall them if they lingered at the fort, they loaded their unconscious mother in their canoe in spite of it being a windy day for a lake crossing. The traders tried to talk them out of it, cautioning that the wind was too strong. Though the gale would be at their backs crossing the lake, it would likely run them into the rocks on the far shore. But Tanner and his brother and sister, thinking the traders were trying to deceive them for some underhanded reason, pushed off anyway. Soon it became apparent that the winds were indeed perilous and far too strong for them to turn around. When Net-no-kwa woke up she found herself and her children in the middle of the lake surrounded by whitecaps, the wind rising, night falling, and everyone on the verge of terror. Seizing a paddle, she prayed aloud to the Great Spirit and began paddling furiously while barking commands to her sons. Hours later, in starlight, they at last sighted land and by sheer good luck aimed the canoe into the only spot of sandy beach in miles of rocky shoreline. Once safely out of the water and sitting comfortably around a fire, they all suddenly burst into laughter. What seemed so funny was the thought of their mother awakening from her drunken stupor to find them all in such terrible peril. The brothers took turns lampooning her and laughing hilariously, even though her drinking bout had very nearly led to the whole family’s demise.17

  At the Forks they found Taw-ga-we-ninne’s kin encamped with a few hundred other Ojibwas and Ottawas. Tanner had never seen such a large gathering of Indians. The western Ojibwas and Ottawas were closely allied, with many clans being united by marriage. In this, the family of Net-no-kwa and Taw-ga-we-ninne was typical. And all were immigrants as well, although many Ojibwas had immigrated before the Ottawas. Certainly the Ojibwas were the more established and numerous of the two peoples.18 Net-no-kwa’s family received a warm welcome. In a council, the chiefs indicated that they would not go wanting through the coming winter. Not long after this, a man approached Net-no-kwa with an offer to provide for her family, and she readily accepted.

  As it was already the middle of autumn when they arrived at the Forks, the large encampment soon broke up. The mass of people dissolved into many smaller groups, although some of these, including Tanner’s, still traveled together up the Assiniboine River en route to their various wintering grounds. As they traveled, Tanner saw the scattered patches of forest give way more and more to large expanses of prairie. Giant white oaks grew along the banks of the meandering Assiniboine River. There were frequent buffalo wallows and ubiquitous sign of elk, moose, bear, and other big game.

  By this time Tanner aspired to the status of a full-fledged hunter. On the second day of their movement up the Assiniboine, the men invited him on a buffalo hunt. They found and killed four bulls—a most gratifying result for one morning’s pursuit. It appeared to Tanner that he and his family had come upon a land of plenty. He reveled in the idea that he truly was becoming a hunter. Already he could feel himself rising in the Indians’ esteem.19

  At a place called Prairie Portage the Ojibwas and Ottawas dispersed into the hills to hunt beaver along the many small streams. The chief of their band assigned Tanner and Wa-me-gon-a-biew to a particular creek, one that the boys could treat as their own hunting territory for that season, and Net-no-kwa gave Tanner three steel traps that she obtained from a trader. Tanner learned how to set his traps and started hunting beaver by himself, though he was too small yet to carry more than a single trap and beaver on his back at one time. Their winter camp consisted of three lodges. Later they were joined by a group of Crees who numbered four more lodges. The Cree language was similar to their own, though less so than Ojibwa was to Ottawa.20

  That winter a pivotal event in the sibling rivalry between Tanner and Wa-me-gon-a-biew occurred. Game had become scarce, and the band was preparing to move camp. On the eve of the group’s departure, Net-no-kwa prayed aloud and chanted through the night in hopes of preparing her elder son for a medicine hunt. A medicine hunt was only performed in time of great need, for it involved calling on the Great Spirit to bring success to the hunter. In answer to her prayers Net-no-kwa had a vision, and in the morning she confided to Wa-me-gon-a-biew that he would kill a bear that day. She told him he must look for it in a round meadow with a path leading away, and when he found this place he would see steam rising where the bear lay in its den. Wa-me-gon-a-biew scoffed at his mother’s vision in the presence of the other young men, but as he repeated her instructions Tanner listened and decided that he would go on this medicine hunt instead of his brother. That afternoon, while everyone was engaged in moving camp, Tanner was told to stay with the baggage where it was temporarily deposited along the trail to the next camp. Seeing his chance, he loaded his gun and backtracked down the trail in search of the round meadow of his mother’s description. Off to one side of the trail he found a round clearing in the woods, and though the ground lay deep under snow he could tell that it had once been a pond that had since filled in with grass. That led him to surmise that the path in his mother’s vision was actually the old outlet of the pond, and so he followed the perimeter of the clearing in search of this feature. Coming to a narrow gap in the underbrush, he crept along it expecting to see steam above where the bear lay in its den. Suddenly he stepped into a hole under the snow. After extricating his leg from this hole, he peered down into it and saw the head of a bear! Quickly he shot the bear before it woke up.21

  For anyone to kill a bear in its winter den was big medicine. For a boy of fourteen, it was a coup. When Net-no-kwa learned what he had achieved, she hugged and kissed him profusely then proudly directed some of the men to go with the hunter and retrieve the carcass. As this was Tanner’s first bear-kill, the whole animal was cooked at once in ceremonial fashion, providing a feast for the entire group, including the Crees. That same day one of the Cree hunters killed a moose and gave a large share of the meat to Net-no-kwa in gratitude for her good medicine.22

  The incident is revealing on a number of fronts. It shows how fiercely the young Tanner competed with his brother for his mother’s affection and how crucial each boy’s hunting success was to the outcome of that struggle. From this point onward, it seems, Tanner was his mother’s fa
vorite. It also shows Tanner’s growing acceptance of Indian religion. His astonishing feat, so wondrously predicated on his mother’s dream, was a kind of religious experience. He sincerely believed he had been led to the bear by supernatural powers. Finally, the incident is suggestive of Tanner’s developing skills as a hunter and primitive naturalist, for he was able to take abstract details in his mother’s dream and relate them to patterns of vegetation and hydrology, which he had previously observed in a summertime environment, even when those same natural features now lay obscured beneath a deep blanket of snow.

  9

  Six Beaver Skins for a Quart of Mixed Rum

  Tanner’s mother and sister were ambivalent emigrants. They had not yet passed an entire winter on the prairie when they began to pine for their old homeland. At the conclusion of that year and each of the next two, Tanner’s family started for Lake Huron, and each time the trip had to be aborted. Tanner seems to have been too young to form strong feelings about it one way or the other, but his older brother Wa-me-gon-a-biew, the skulking teenager, finally decided for himself that he was not going back. It was due to his obstinacy that Net-no-kwa finally abandoned the plan once and for all.1