by John Tanner
Shortly after this, when I had been hunting all day, on returning home late at night, I found a very unusual gloominess in the countenances of all the inmates of my lodge. I saw there a man named Chik-ah-to, who was almost a stranger to me. He, and all the rest of them, seemed as if cast down by some sudden and unexpected bad news, and when I asked my wife the cause of this apparent distress, she returned me no answer. At length, Waw-zhe-kah-maish-koon, in reply to my earnest inquiries, told me, with the utmost seriousness, and a voice of solemn concern, that the Great Spirit had come down again. “What, has he come again so soon?” said I; “He comes often of late, but I suppose we must hear what he has to say.” The light and irreverent manner in which I treated the subject, was very offensive to many of the Indians, and they apparently all determined to withhold from me all communications respecting it. This was to me a matter of little consequence, and I went, as usual, to my hunting on the following morning. My own indifference and contempt for these pretended revelations of the Divine will kept me in ignorance for some time of the purport of the present one. But at a subsequent period of my life, I found that though my skepticism might not be offensive to the Great God, in whose name these revelations were made to us, still it was highly so to those who were pleased to style themselves his messengers, and that by incurring their ill will I exposed myself to much inconvenience and danger.
In the spring of the year, after we had assembled at the trading house at Pembinah, the chiefs built a great lodge and called all the men together to receive some information concerning the newly revealed will of the Great Spirit. The messenger of this revelation was Manito-o-geezhik, a man of no great fame but well known to most of the Ojibbeways of that country. He had disappeared for about one year, and in that time he pretended to have visited the abode of the Great Spirit, and to have listened to his instructions, but some of the traders informed me he had only been to St. Louis, on the Mississippi.
The Little Clam took it upon him to explain the object of the meeting. He then sang and prayed, and proceeded to detail the principal features of the revelation to Manito-o-geezhik. The Indians were no more to go against their enemies. They must no longer steal, defraud, or lie; they must neither be drunk, nor eat their food, nor drink their broth when it was hot. Few of the injunctions of Manito-o-geezhik were troublesome or difficult of observance, like those of the Shawnee prophet. Many of the maxims and instructions communicated to the Indians at this time were of a kind to be permanently and valuably useful to them, and the effect of their influence was manifest for two or three years in the more orderly conduct, and somewhat amended condition of the Indians.
When we were ready to separate from the trading-house, Ais-ainse, (the little clam,) invited several of us, myself in particular, to accompany him to his residence at Man-e-to Sah-gi-e-gun, or Spirit Lake, but I would not join him, as I wished to remain in a woody country for the purpose of hunting the fur-bearing animals. Ten men, among whom were Wa-ge-tote and Gi-ah-ge-git, together with great numbers of women, accepted his invitation and went with him. A young man, a friend of the Little Clam, named Se-gwun-oons, (spring deer,) before they separated from us at Pembinah, predicted that he would be killed at Spirit Lake. Many other predictions he made, which were verified from day to day, until the Indians came to have such confidence in him that his admonitions of impending danger to those who should go to Spirit Lake began to be so much regarded, that Wa-me-gon-a-biew and many others became alarmed and returned. Last of all came Match-e-toons, a foolish and lying young man, who reported that the indications of danger thickening around the Little Clam and his band, he had stolen away in the night, and the next morning, though he had fled a considerable distance, he heard the guns of the Sioux at the camp he had left. We did not immediately credit the account of this man, but waited anxiously from day to day, till at last the chiefs determined to send twenty men to ascertain whether there was any foundation for his statement. This party, when they arrived at the place where the Little Clam had been encamped, found that the whole band had been cut off. First, and in advance of all the camp, lay the body of Se-gwun-oons, the young man who had predicted the attack before he left Pembinah. Near him lay some young men of his own age, and farther back the stout body of the Little Clam, stuck full of arrows. In the camp the ground was strewed with the bodies of the women and children. At a distance was the body of one of the Sioux, in a sitting posture, and covered with the puk-kwi, or mats, which had belonged to the Ojibbeway lodges. Not one escaped except Match-e-toons, but some afterwards doubted whether he had not fled in the time of the fight, instead of the evening before, as he had stated. Thus died the Little Clam, the last of the considerable men of his age belonging to the Ojibbeways of Red River. Our village seemed desolate after the recent loss of so many men.
We then went down to Dead River, planted corn, and spent the summer there. Sha-gwaw-koo-sink, an Ottawwaw, a friend of mine and an old man, first introduced the cultivation of corn among the Ojibbeways of the Red River country.
In the ensuing fall when we went to our hunting grounds, the wolves were unusually numerous and troublesome. They attacked and killed my horse, and several of my dogs. One day, when I had killed a moose, and gone with all my family to bring in the meat, I found on my return, the wolves had pulled down my lodge, carried off many skins, carrying-straps, and, in fine, whatever articles of skin, or leather they could come at. I killed great numbers, but they still continued to trouble me, particularly an old dog wolf, who had been so often at my door that I knew his appearance, and was perfectly acquainted with his habits. He used, whenever he came, to advance boldly upon my dogs and drive them in. He would then prowl about to seize whatever he could find of food. At last, I loaded my gun and went out, when he sprang directly at me, but I shot him before he had time to fasten upon me. Half his hair had fallen off.
CHAPTER XI
Rapacity of the traders. – Revelation of Manito-o-geezhik. – Pretensions of As-kaw-ba-wis. – Credulity of the Indians. – Colony at Red River, planted by the Hudson’s Bay traders. – Large war-party assembled at Turtle Mountain. – Want of discipline.
Mr. Henry had traded ten years at Pembinah. He was succeeded by a Mr. M’Kenzie, who remained but a short time, and after him came Mr. Wells, called by the Indians Gah-se-moan, (a sail,) from the roundness and fulness of his person. He built a strong fort on Red River, near the mouth of the Assinneboin. The Hudson’s Bay Company had now no post in that part of the country, and the Indians were soon made conscious of the advantage which had formerly resulted to them from the competition between rival trading companies. Mr. Wells, at the commencement of winter, called us all together, gave the Indians a ten gallon keg of rum and some tobacco, telling them, at the same time, he would not credit one of them the value of a single needle. When they brought skins, he would buy them, and give in exchange such articles as were necessary for their comfort and subsistence during the winter. I was not with the Indians when this talk was held. When it was reported to me, and a share of the presents offered me, I not only refused to accept any thing, but reproached the Indians for their pusillanimity in submitting to such terms. They had been accustomed for many years to receive credits in the fall. They were now entirely destitute not of clothing merely, but of ammunition, and many of them of guns and traps. How were they, without the accustomed aid from the traders, to subsist themselves and their families during the ensuing winter? A few days afterwards, I went to Mr. Wells, and told him that I was poor, with a large family to support by my own exertions, and that I must unavoidably suffer, and perhaps perish, unless he would give me such a credit as I had always, in the fall, been accustomed to receive. He would not listen to my representation and told me, roughly, to be gone from his house. I then took eight silver beavers, such as are worn by the women, as ornaments on their dress, and which I had purchased the year before at just twice the price that was commonly given for a capote. I laid them before him on the table, and asked him to give me a capote
for them, or retain them as a pledge for the payment of the price of the garment, as soon as I could procure the peltries. He took up the ornaments, threw them in my face, and told me never to come inside of his house again. The cold weather of the winter had not yet set in, and I went immediately to my hunting ground, killed a number of moose, and set my wife to make the skins into such garments as were best adapted to the winter season, and which I now saw we should be compelled to substitute for the blankets and woollen clothes we had been accustomed to receive from the traders.
I continued my hunting with good success, but the winter had not half passed when I heard that Mr. Hanie, a trader for the Hudson’s Bay people, had arrived at Pembinah. I went immediately to him, and he gave me all the credit I asked, which was to the amount of seventy skins. Then I went to Muskrat River, where I hunted the remainder of the winter, killing great numbers of martens, beavers, otters, etc.
Early in the spring, I sent word by some Indians to Mr. Hanie, that I would go down to the mouth of the Assinneboin, and meet him there to pay my credit, as I had skins more than enough for this purpose.
When I arrived at the Assinneboin, Mr. Hanie had not yet passed, and I stopped to wait for him opposite Mr. Well’s trading house. An old Frenchman offered me a lodging in his house, and I went in and deposited my peltries under the place he gave me to sleep in. Mr. Wells, having heard of my arrival, sent three times, urging me to come and see him. At last, I yielded to the solicitations of my brother-in-law and crossed over with him. Mr. Wells was glad to see me, and treated me with much politeness. He offered me wine and provisions, and whatever his house afforded. I had taken nothing except a little tobacco, when I saw his Frenchman come in with my packs. They carried them past me into Mr. Well’s bed room. He then locked the door, and took out the key. Immediately his kindness and attentions to me relaxed. I said nothing, but felt not the less anxious and uneasy, as I was very unwilling to be deprived of the means of paying Mr. Hanie his credit, still more so to have my property taken from me by violence, or without my consent. I watched about the house, and at length found an opportunity to slip into the bed room, while Mr. Wells was then taking something from a trunk. He tried to drive me, and afterwards to push me out, but I was too strong for him. After he had proceeded to this violence, I did not hesitate to take up my packs, but he snatched them from me. Again I seized them, and in the struggle that ensued, the thongs that bound them were broken, and the skins strewed about the floor. As I went to gather them up, he drew a pistol, cocked it, and presented it to my breast. For a moment I stood motionless, thinking he would certainly kill me, as I saw he was much enraged. Then I seized his hand, and turned it aside, at the same moment drawing from my belt a large knife, which I grasped firmly in my right hand, still holding him by my left. Seeing himself thus suddenly and entirely in my power, he called first for his wife, then for his interpreter, and told them to put me out of the house. To this, the interpreter answered, “You are as able to put him out as I am.” Some of the Frenchmen were also in the house, but they refused to give him any assistance. Finding he was not likely to intimidate or overcome me by violence, he had recourse once more to milder measures. He offered to divide with me, and to allow me to retain half my peltries for the Hudson’s Bay people. “You have always,” said he, “belonged to the North West; why should you now desert us for the Hudson’s Bay?” He then proceeded to count the skins, dividing them into two parcels, but I told him it was unnecessary, as I was determined he should not have one of them. “I went to you,” said I, “last fall, when I was hungry and destitute, and you drove me, like a dog, from your door. The ammunition with which I killed these animals, was credited to me by Mr. Hanie, and the skins belong to him but if this was not the case, you should not have one of them. You are a coward. You have not so much courage as a child. If you had the heart of a squaw, you would not have pointed your pistol at my breast, and have failed to shoot me. My life was in your power, and there was nothing to prevent your taking it, not even the fear of my friends, for you know that I am a stranger here, and not one among the Indians would raise his hand to avenge my death. You might have thrown my body into the river, as you would a dog, and no one would have asked you what you had done, but you wanted the spirit to do even this.” He asked me if I had not a knife in my hand. I then showed him two, a large and a small one, and told him to beware how he provoked me to use them. At last, wearied with this altercation, he went and sat down opposite me in the large room. Though he was at considerable distance, so great was his agitation that I could distinctly hear his heart beat. He sat awhile, then went and began to walk back and forth in the yard. I collected my skins together, and the interpreter helped me to tie them up; then taking them on my back, I walked out, passed close by him, put them in my canoe, and returned to the old Frenchman’s house on the other side.
Next morning, it appeared that Mr. Wells had thought better of the subject than to wish to take my property from me by violence, for he sent his interpreter to offer me his horse, which was a very valuable one, if I would think no more of what he had done. “Tell him,” said I, to the interpreter, “he is a child, and wishes to quarrel and forget his quarrel in one day, but he shall not find I am like him. I have a horse of my own, I will keep my packs, nor will I forget that he pointed his pistol at my breast when he had not the courage to shoot me.”
On the following morning, one of the clerks of the North West Company arrived from the trading-house at Mouse River, and he, it appeared, told Mr. Wells when he heard what had passed that he would take my packs from me, and though Mr. Wells cautioned him against it, he determined on making the attempt. It was near noon when the old Frenchman, after looking out of his house, said to me, “My friend, I believe you will lose your packs now. Four men are coming this way, all well armed; their visit, I am sure, is for no good or friendly purpose.” Hearing this, I placed my packs in the middle of the floor, and taking a beaver trap in my hand, sat down on them. When the clerk came in, accompanied by three young men, he asked me for my packs. “What right have you,” said I, “to demand them?” “You are indebted to me,” said he. “When did I owe the North West any thing, that was not paid at the time agreed on?” “Ten years ago,” said he, “your brother, Wa-me-gon-a-biew, had a credit from me, which he paid all but ten skins. Those are still due, and I wish you to pay them.” “Very well,” said I, “I will pay your demand, but you must, at the same time, pay me for those four packs of beaver we sent to you from the Grand Portage. Your due bill was, as you know, burned with my lodge at Ke-mu-kaw-ne-she-wa-bo-ant, and you have never paid me, or any member of our family, the value of a single needle for those one hundred and sixty beaver skins.” Finding this method would not succeed, and knowing, though he disregarded it, the justice of my reply, he tried the effect of violent measures, like those used on the preceding day by Mr. Wells; but when he perceived these were and would be equally unavailing, he returned to the fort without having taken a single marten skin from me.
When I ascertained that it would be some time before Mr. Hanie would arrive, I went down to Dead River, and while I was waiting there, killed four hundred muskrats. At last, Mr. Hanie arrived at the place where I, with another man, had been waiting for him. He told me that he had passed Mr. Wells’ trading-house at the mouth of the Assinneboin, in the middle of the day, with his crew singing. Mr. Wells, on seeing him, had immediately started after him, with a canoe strongly manned and armed. On perceiving this pursuit, Mr. Hanie went on shore, and leaving his men in his canoe, went up about twenty yards into a smooth prairie. Hither Mr. Wells followed him, attended by several armed men, but Mr. Hanie made him stop at the distance of ten yards, and a long dispute followed, which ended in his permitting Mr. Hanie to pass down. I related to him my story of the treatment I had received, and paid him his credit. I traded with him for the remainder of my peltries, and after we had finished, he gave me some handsome presents, among which was a valuable gun, and then went on his way. As
I was re-ascending Red River, I met Mr. Wells. He was destitute of fresh game, and asked me for some, which I should have given, had it been in my power, but he attributed my refusal to ill will. Afterwards, though I was living at a distance from him, he sent his horse to me, and again subsequently to Pembinah, but I constantly refused to accept it. Notwithstanding my steady and repeated refusal, I was informed he always said the horse belonged to me, and after his death, which happened three years later, the other traders told me I ought to take the horse, but I would not, and it fell into the hands of an old Frenchman. After the death of Mr. Wells, I returned to the North West Company, and traded with them, as before, but never while he lived. If he had shot me, and wounded me ever so severely, I should have been less offended with him, than to have him present his pistol, as he did, to my breast, and take it away without firing.
Esh-ke-buk-ke-koo-sa, a chief of Leech Lake, came after this to Pembinah with about forty young men, and I went, by invitation, from the Be-gwi-o-nus-ko, with others, to hear him give some account of the recent revelation from the Great Spirit to Manito-o-geezhik. We were all assembled one night in a long lodge, erected for the purpose, to dance and feast, and listen to the discourse of the chief, when suddenly we heard two guns, in quick succession, in the direction of the North West Company’s trading-house, now unoccupied, except by two Frenchmen who had that day arrived. The old men looked at each other in doubt and dismay. Some said the Frenchmen are killing wolves, but Esh-ke-buk-ke-koo-sa said, “I know the sound of the guns of the Sioux.” The night was very dark, but all the young men took their arms and started immediately, and I among the foremost. Many getting entangled among logs and stumps, made but little progress. I kept the path, and was still foremost, when a dark figure shot past me, and at the same moment I heard the voice of the Black Duck, saying, neen-dow-in-nin-ne, (I am a man.) I had often heard of the prowess of this man, and in one instance had seen him at the Sioux village at Chief Mountain, lead in what we all supposed would be an attack. Now I determined to keep near him. We had advanced within about gun shot of the fort when he began to leap, first to one side, and then to the other, thus moving in a zigzag line, though rapidly, towards the gate of the fort. I followed his example, and when he leapt into the open gate of the fort, it was with a surprising effort of activity, which carried his feet near two yards from the ground. We saw within the fort a house, at the window and door of which we perceived a bright light. The Black Duck had a buffalo robe over his shoulders, the dark colour of which enabled him to pass the window undiscovered by the man who was watching within, but my white blanket betraying me, the muzzle of a gun was instantly presented to my head, but not discharged, for the Black Duck at that instant caught in his arms the affrighted Frenchman, who had mistaken me for one of the Sioux, and was in the act of firing upon me. The second Frenchman was with the women and children, who were all lying in a heap in the corner of the room, crying through fear. It appeared that the one who was watching by the window, who was the most manly of the two, had, a few minutes before, been driving his horse out of the fort, to give him water, when the animal had been shot dead in the gate by some men concealed near at hand. He at first thought we were the people who had shot his horse, but he was soon convinced of his error, as we did not even know that the body of the horse was lying at the gate, having jumped entirely over it when we entered. This Frenchman would not leave the fort, but the Black Duck, who was a relative of one of the women, insisted that they should be taken to the Indian camp. Others of our young men had by this time come up, and we determined to watch in the fort all night. Next morning we found the trail of the two men who had crossed the Pembinah river, a considerable war party having been concealed on the other side. The two men were the celebrated Yanktong chief, Wah-ne-tow, and his uncle. They had concealed themselves near the gate of the fort, with the determination to shoot down whatever came out or went in. The first that passed, happening to be the Frenchman’s horse, he was shot down; and the two men, probably without knowing whether they had killed man or beast, fled across the river.
