Part 3

Soon a door opened without noise and a little child came into the room. She looked to me like a little angel I had seen the picture of, blue eyes and golden hair. She seemed such a sweet little flower almost too frail to be alive. When she saw me she came to me, holding out her doll for me to take. I drew back, as her doll was wax and opened and shut its eyes. It was almost like the one I had at home put away in its box which had been given me at St. Helena by Cousin Mitchell. I had not got over being afraid of it yet because it moved its eyes. Mother had to come and explain to them about it. The little girl took me by the hand and led me into a large bedroom where her mamma lay among white pillows. The lady reached out her hand to me, smiling, and drew me up to her. At first I could say nothing. Then as her sister came in with the baby in her arms I said, "Me want to go home and see Charley." Mother came to explain I wanted to go home to see my little brother. The lady said, "you shall see them this evening, I shall send and have them come." Then I told her I wanted to see Bob too. She said, "Yes, Bob shall come." I was more content, and while mother held the wee baby in her arms I sat in a little chair and rocked my doll, singing to it, and when I was given my bread and milk for supper I fed my doll some, and when she choked I patted her on the back just like Aunt Abby did to Baby Margarette.

REMINDERS OF HOME FAR AWAY.

Soon the lamps were lighted and the men came in to supper. The young lady, Mr. Frankle's sister, had gotten the supper with mother's help. I remember the long table and white table cloth. The men were all seated at the table when Mr. Frankle came in the room with the little wee baby in his arms. He took the baby to the men and some of them took it in their arms and kissed it, tears rolling down their faces. Father told me later it made them think of home and their own little ones, for most of them had families in their far away homes. Mother took the baby to its mother. I was put into a high chair and sat near the head of the table, heads were bowed and Mr. Frankle asked a blessing. As soon as it was ended I said "Amen" and made the sign of the cross, just as grandpa always did. When I saw them smile I looked serious and got down, telling mother I wanted to go home. I could not eat, but fed my doll, after which mother took me in her arms and rocked me to sleep, singing one of her sweet old songs.

A LONGING FOR HOME.

Next morning I could not eat any breakfast, but kept calling for brother Charley, Bob and grandpa. Everything was so still and silent here in the big house. Oh the longing in a child's heart for the old familiar faces and home! Child that I was it seemed to me all that made life sweet had gone out of my life. I grew sick, I could not eat, and for several days lay on my little bed. Little Lilly tried to amuse me with her dolls and music box, but my heart was longing for grandpa, Charley and Bob. One morning father came and took me up and carried me into another room. There was Charley and Bob. It was a happy meeting with us all, but I felt too weak to play. At night father took Bob home and left Charley with us, but Charley, too, was not happy, he could not whittle his sticks or spin his top like he could at home. Mother, too, missed her home. Here everything was silent, and still all were very kind to us. But mother missed our noise and singing. Little Charley, too, began to droop. At night he went to look out of the window, and when he saw the lights in our windows at home across the river he began to cry, saying to mother, "I want to go home to grandpa." Next day we were both sent home, and grandpa and Bob were so happy. Lewis and Toney, too, were anxious for us all to be home again. At night we were taken again to the big house, as mother wanted us with her. We three children played to amuse ourselves, but all seemed so quiet to Charley and me. Charley was more at home now. Miss Harriet let him spin his top and whittle in the kitchen. After about two weeks mother was ready to go home and we were a happy family.

HAPPY HOME LIFE.

Life went on very happy with us children, our home was comfortable. After all the years that have passed so rapidly, methinks I can see us all as we were then around our pleasant fireside on many of those winter evenings. Little mittens had to be made for our hands. Little jackets and caps for the boys, in which all took an interest, and grandpa, too, did his share. He made little fur suits for the boys, caps and all. Father would read to us from the big family Bible and explain to us as he read. Then he would sing the hymns he loved so well, mother joining in. Then grandpa would sing with mother their French glee songs, while us children would join in. Then grandpa would rock me in the low cradle and the boys grew impatient because it kept the fur suits from being made so fast. Then old grandpa would tell us stories of his travels, and when he told us about them we forgot all about fur suits, for we loved to listen to his old French and Spanish songs and stories. He would tell us of his travels and hardships.

BOB'S SYMPATHY.

Bob seemed almost to understand, as he would always come close to us and listen, looking at us with his great, kind eyes. Many times grandpa would cry as he related some of his most sorrowful experiences, of how some of his comrades had perished from cold and hunger, or of being drowned in crossing the great rivers. Then he would cover his face with his hands as if to shut out the sight of some loved one's suffering. Old Bob would whine and lick his old master's face and hands as if trying to comfort him, then run to father and whine. Father would go over to grandpa and say, "Now don't cry any more, all that is past. You have not any more such trials to pass through. Now be happy with us." It always cheered him and soon he would be at work again. We children always sympathized with him, often shedding tears when he told his sorrowful tales and laughing with glee at some of his jolly ones. Sometimes mother would say, "I do wish you would not tell the children so many sorrowful stories. It makes them sad to hear them." Then he would say, "Me can't help it. Me sad too sometimes." The fur suits were finished and taken over to the big house for Mrs. Frankle to see them, grandpa being a great favorite with her.

INDIAN VILLAGE AND CHIEF OSSAWINAMAKEE.

The Indian village was about three miles distant back from the shore or river's mouth. There the Indians had a large settlement of about seven hundred people in all at that time. At one time their village had contained nearly three thousand. Since all tribes had been at peace many of their Braves had gone among other tribes to visit and hunt. This tribe was of the Ottawas, mixed with the Ojibewas or Chippewas. In times of war each had been a powerful nation. Most of these had lived in the Lake Superior region. After peace was declared part of the tribe wandered away to the southward seeking new hunting grounds. The present Chief's father had been a great warrior as well as his father before him. Chief Ossawinamakee (Big Thunder), was a peaceful man, ruling his people with great kindness. He was a noble looking man of fine personal appearance.

THE LAKE OF ENCHANTMENT.

The beautiful lake where the village was situated the chief's father had claimed to have found in his younger days when out on a hunting tour. The tribe claimed the lake was enchanted. Its fish and wild fowl, ducks and geese and other game were not to be disturbed by the hunters, but left for "the Indian Maiden" who strolled by its shores, and for her lover that was to come back and take her to the happy hunting grounds. The village was situated beside this beautiful lake, called by the tribe "The Lake of Enchantment," or where "The Spirit of Peace Always Lived." And, truly, when seen in its quiet and wild beauty it was not hard to believe. The legend runs that on moonlight nights the form of an Indian maiden could be seen wandering along its quiet shores waiting for her lover to come from the happy hunting grounds to meet her. In times of war among the different tribes, it was told, a beautiful Indian maiden of the Ottawas had a lover of the Huron tribe. The tribes were at war. The lover was taken prisoner and condemned to die, to burn at the stake. When the awful deed was taking place the Indian maiden was seen to take her flight southward. Braves were sent to bring her back. She forever eluded them and at last disappeared from their sight. When this lake was discovered many years afterwards it was believed the shadowy maiden seen was the same that had disappeared so long ago, and wandered beside this beautiful water waiting for her lover to join her. Wild deer came to drink of its waters, animals and fowls had no fear of the red man. It was indeed an enchanted place.

THE CHIEF'S DAUGHTER, "STAR OF THE MORNING."

The Chief's daughter was a beautiful Indian maiden. She was an only child. Her mother died when she was quite young. Her aunt, her mother's sister, had taken the place of a mother to her. The Chief, her father, was very proud of her and greatly attached to her. She was of medium height, oval face and clear olive skin with red cheeks and lips, her eyes were large and dark with nearly always a sad look in them. Her teeth were like two rows of small white pearls, small hands and feet, she was a royal princess dearly loved by the whole tribe. Her Indian name was Wa-bun-an-nung (the Morning Star.) We always called her Mary. She was gentle in her manner and could sew very nicely, being always busy with her bead work and quills, making many pretty little boxes from the birch bark and ornamenting them with bright colored porcupine quills which the Indian women colored in bright, gay colors. Her father had always taken her with him on his long trips to Canada and the Sault, also to Green Bay on many of his hunting expeditions. She could paddle her canoe as swift as any of the braves in her tribe.

THE CHIEF AND HIS DAUGHTER VISITING US.

To me Mary seemed like some bright being from another world. Her voice was soft and sweet. She always came to our home with her father, the chief. Then she would take me in her arms, calling me her little white "papoose." She would put me in my cradle, rocking and singing me to sleep with her quiet, soft voice. Many were the strings of beads and deer skin moccasins she gave me. She made me some dolls and put pretty dresses on them. She was always doing something nice for us children and was very fond of us. One day she asked little brother if he would give her little sister, meaning me, for one of her pretty pet fawns. He said, "Yes." When she started with me in her arms toward the door he screamed and cried so hard before she could make him know she was only in fun. He said, "Don't take my little sister. Go over the river to the big house and take that 'papoose' because it cries so much." When the older brothers came they said, "Why didn't you trade little sister for the fawn and two cub bears?" Mary told her father. When he came again he brought the fawn and two cubs to see if the boys would trade me away for them. As soon as the boys saw the fawn and the cubs they began to cry and beg mother not to let me go. They did not want to trade little sister off for any thing. All the time the chief remained they watched me, fearing he might take me. He was greatly amused at the joke. I was delighted to play with the fawn and the cubs were like kittens to play. The fawn was inseparable from Mary, it loved her so.

The days were longer now and the snow all gone. Grass was beginning to show in many places. The sun shone warm and bright. Mother said, "Spring is here, now don't you hear the birds sing?" Grandpa took us for little walks, but not far, as the wolves were always near almost every morning. Sometimes two or three deer would come tearing past our door, jumping into the river to save themselves from the packs of wolves chasing them, and the bears would swim across the mouth of the river. Indian hunters were always coming home from the hunt loaded with game. Their deer meat was dried and smoked for future use. The wolves would come close to our house and little brother and I would often try to call them to come and get some bread and butter, we thinking them dogs. Grandpa and Bob were always near us or we would have been eaten alive by the wolves.

THE CHIEF'S DEPARTURE.

I remember one day soon after breakfast Mary and her father came with a number of other Indians, Mary's aunt with the rest. A large canoe was packed and fitted out with all things necessary for a long voyage. The chief and Mary's aunt were going to Canada on a visit and Mary was to stay with us till her father returned. Her father took four men and Mary's aunt with him. Soon all was ready. They shook hands and away sped the bark canoe over the waves. Mary at first was sad to have her father go, but soon was cheerful again. She helped mother with her sewing and worked two pretty pairs of moccasins and made leggings and pretty garters. Some of the work was for her father. Time passed and it began to be time for the Chief's return. Mary grew restless as many storms came. She would look out over the waters for hours. Mother tried hard to comfort her and tell her all would be well. But Mary must see to believe. Her faith could not reach out very far into unseen things. Grandpa tried to comfort her. He would kneel down and pray for her father's return.

One day a young Indian came to our house to see and talk to Mary. Mother told me afterward he was Mary's lover and had promised her father not to visit Mary in his absence. Hearing how worried she was he had broken his promise. Mary seemed very sad, talked very little to him, and only when mother was present. She had also promised her father not to meet him while he was gone. The Chief had not given his full consent to their marriage. Another Chief's son had asked for Mary to be given him in marriage, which was now Mary's father's business away in Canada. She worried not so much for her father's absence as she feared her father and the Canadian chief would come to a satisfactory understanding and that she might be compelled to marry the Canadian lover whose father had much land and stock. She felt worried because her lover had broken his word to her father and she feared his displeasure. Indians are very strict about their laws and customs.

RETURN OF THE CHIEF OSSAWINAMAKEE.

One day soon after this I saw the Chief coming up the path to the house. He was not alone. Mary was lying in the swinging hammock. She gave a bound like a deer and reached the door just as her father came in. She threw her arms about his neck and fainted away. Mother put water on her face. She soon opened her eyes and smiled at her father. He took her hand and talked long to her. She looked past him and saw the strange young Indian standing beside the door. She gave a cry and put her hands to her face. Her father called him to come to them, speaking to them both. At last Mary gave him her hand and spoke the Indian greeting, "Bou shou" (how do you do.) In turn we all greeted him with the same term. The Chief talked a long time to Mary and mother, telling about his trip. Father came home to supper.

The Chief had brought a large pack of beautiful silks, beads, scarfs and cloth for Mary to make some new gowns. He also brought some pretty shells from Lake Simcoe for mother, which she prized very highly as her mother was born there, and many more goods of furs and rugs. The young Indian also brought some furs and rugs, one handsome white one with black spots upon it which he laid down at Mary's feet. She did not seem to be very well pleased with the present, but her father was loud in his praise and thanks. At last Mary thanked him in a low voice. As it was growing dark the Chief and the young Indian left for the village, Mary remaining with us for the night. Brother Charley and I lay down on the white rug with Bob beside us and were soon fast asleep.

Oh childhood's happy hours, Would that they could come again! If only we might taste their joys once more Our hearts would sing a glad refrain.

INVITED TO THE FEAST.

Next morning the Chief came to take his daughter home, thanking mother for taking care of her during his absence. We were all invited to attend the great feast with the other Chemokamon's (white men) from the other side of the river. It had been told to the tribe that morning of the coming marriage of the Chief's daughter to the Canadian Chief's son, who had much land and stock to give his bride. When he talked with mother about it she asked him about the other young man and if he had not promised Mary to him. He answered, "We come of a proud and haughty race. This young man has much land and riches while the other has nothing to give my daughter. No lands, no moneys." Mother said to him, "You will miss Mary from your wigwam." At this he softened, then saying, "I have power to extend the time of Mary's marriage."

On the day of the feast the sun shone clear and bright. Our boys were up early and all seemed to be in a hurry. Grandpa had made a little cart for Bob to draw me in, so Bob's harness was all trimmed with gay colored ribbons. Mother put on my little red dress and pretty beaded moccasins which Mary had made for me. Then I was put into the cart and old Bob trotted off so proudly, thinking perhaps of his younger days when he had brought the great loads of furs from the Lake Superior trapping grounds to the Sault and Mackinac Islands to be sold to the traders there. Those were proud days for the voyagers when all the village came out to meet them from their long trips. After crossing the river we were joined by the people on that side, who were a happy lot. This was a holiday for them all. An Indian feast which none had ever before attended. Something to write about to their far away homes. All went along singing. Old grandpa singing his French and Spanish glee songs with the boys joining, which made the woods ring. We soon came to the lake, and the village of many wigwams was close beside the water.

THE BEAUTIFUL LAKE AT THE INDIAN VILLAGE.

On that morning the lake was like a great mirror or a sea of glass, not a ripple stirred its surface and the beautiful trees were reflected on every side, hanging branches everywhere full of song birds, and swimming about near the shore were broods of ducks with their little ones among them. None seemed to be afraid of us. There were many young fawns wandering about and drinking from the lake. Mossy banks and many flowers. No one was allowed to harm the birds, fawns or ducks. The place seemed rightly named "The Lake of Enchantment." I remember being carried into a wigwam and laid on a bed of skins and furs. I was so sleepy after my ride. When I awoke I found myself alone and being frightened began to cry. Very soon Bob came bounding in. I took him by the collar and when we were out of doors I saw a lot of Indian children with brother Lewis and Toney running and jumping with them. I saw mother and grandpa, with little brother, going into a large wigwam. I ran over to them. In the middle of this lodge was a great fire with many kettles hanging in which the dinner was being cooked for the feast. The lodge had been made on purpose for the (chemokamon) white man's cooking to be done. Grandpa and mother had full charge of this part. Father soon came and took little brother and me where many young Indians and the white men were playing a game of ball. There were many squaws and children all gaily dressed with many colored ribbons. Dogs were running about everywhere, and young pet cub bears which the children seemed to be taking care of. The squaws had been to our house and knew us children. They came to us, giving us little cakes of maple sugar.

THE INDIAN MAIDEN IN HER WIGWAM.

After a time little brother and I wanted to see Mary, so father took us to her wigwam, which was covered with black bear skins. There we found Mrs. Frankle with her sister and the children. Mary was sitting on a bear skin rug with her hands folded and her eyes almost shut. I wish I could describe her as she looked sitting there in her dark beauty. I could not take my eyes off her. She raised her eyes and looked at me as if to know what I wanted or what did I see. Then she smiled and sprang to her feet, coming towards me. I backed away and gave a great sob just as I have felt since when looking at some beautiful picture. It seemed to thrill me through and through. She seemed almost to know my thoughts. She seemed almost afraid to move. At last she took me in her arms and, sitting down near Mrs. Frankle, the great tears rolled down her face. Mrs. Frankle put her face near Mary's and kissed her. Then the great sobs came. The Indian maiden may sob but never cry aloud like her white skinned sisters. I wondered why Mary should sob and the tears fall on my face when she was so beautiful and had such beautiful clothes. I felt of her dress and arms, passing my hands over her face, which made her smile. She then gave us some pretty shells to play with. Soon Mary's father came to see if she were ready to appear before the crowd. When his eyes rested on her a pleased look came over his face. He seemed to be satisfied, for he gave a shrug, saying "ugh ni-chi-chin" (good), meaning he was satisfied with her appearance. Little Charley and I had found the pretty leggings and moccasins Mary had made for her father and lover and ran to the Chief with them, holding them up for him to see, telling him Mary made them. He took them in his hand and smiled. He seemed pleased, but Mary came as if to take them. He kept them in his hand, talking long and earnestly to her. She stood with her head bowed and sad. He showed Miss Harriet and Mrs. Frankle the pretty work, which they admired, but Mary seemed so sad they wondered.

THE SOUNDING OF THE DRUM.

We now heard a big drum and the barking of dogs. Then all the men with Mr. Frankle came and the Chief took Mary's hand. Father took me in his arms and we all went out where there were a great many Indians standing in a large circle. The Chief and his daughter went into the circle and all the white people followed. There were great skins of bear and other furs spread about for the chemokamon (white man) to sit upon, but all the Indians must stand while the Chief made his speech and gave the announcement of his daughter's marriage with the Canadian Chief's son, who was now his guest.

CHIEF OSSAWINAMAKEE'S SPEECH.

The chief walked into the circle with a proud and haughty tread, waving his hand for all to be silent. I knew nothing of what he said, but my father told me when I was old enough to understand. I remember his form. He was tall and stately, with a fine appearance, and was dressed as became the chief of the proud Ottawa tribe. Many silver ornaments were on his breast. He talked a long time, while all listened in stately silence.