Part 2

Elliot had been lecturing on the doctrine of the trinity, when one of his auditors, after a long and thoughtful pause, thus addressed him. ‘I believe, Mr. Minister, I understand you. The trinity is just like water and ice and snow. The water is one, the ice is another, and the snow is another; and yet they are all one water.’

MORE ROOM.

When General Lincoln went to make peace with the Creek Indians, one of the chiefs asked him to sit down on a log; he was then desired to move, and in a few minutes to move still farther; the request was repeated till the General got to the end of the log. The Indian said, ‘Move farther.’ To which the General replied, ‘I can move no farther.’ ‘Just so it is with us,’ said the chief; ‘you have moved us back to the water, and then ask us to move farther.’

INDIAN MENDACITY.

Of all the vices incident to the aborigines of this country, from their intercourse with the whites, that of lying is, probably, not among the least. Some years anterior to the independence of the United States, one Tom Hyde, an Indian famous for his cunning, went into a tavern in Brookfield, Massachusetts, and after a little chat told the landlord he had been hunting, and had killed a fine fat deer, and if he would give him a quart of rum he would tell him where it was. Mine host, unwilling to let slip so good an opportunity of obtaining venison, immediately struck the bargain and measured the Indian his quart of rum, at the same time asking where the deer was to be found. ‘Well,’ says Tom, ‘do you know where the great meadow is?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, do you know the great marked maple tree that stands in it?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, there lies the deer.’ Away posted the landlord with his team, in quest of his purchase. He found the meadow and the tree, it is true; but all his searching after the deer was fruitless, and he returned home no heavier than he went, except in mortification and disappointment. Some days after, mine host met the Indian, and feeling indignant at the deception practised on him, accused him in no gentle terms of the trick. Tom heard him out—and, with the coolness of a stoic, replied—‘Did you not find the meadow, as I said?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And the tree?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And the deer?’ ‘No.’ ‘Very good,’ continued he, ‘you found _two truths for one lie, which is very well for an Indian_.’

CANONICUS.

Mr. Drake, in his Book of the Indians, thus mentions Canonicus, the sachem of the Narragansets:—

He was contemporary with Miantunnomoh, who was his nephew. We know not the time of his birth, but a son of his was at Boston in 1631, the next year after it was settled. But the time of his death is minutely recorded by Governor Winthrop, in his “Journal,” thus: “June 4, 1647, Canonicus, the great sachem of Narraganset, died, a very old man.” He is generally supposed to have been about 85 years of age when he died.

He is mentioned with great respect by Rev. Roger Williams, in the year 1654. After observing that many hundreds of the English were witnesses to the friendly disposition of the Narragansets, he says, “their late famous long-lived Canonicus so lived and died, and in the same most honourable manner and solemnity, (in their way,) as you laid to sleep your prudent peace-maker, Mr. Winthrop, did they honour this their prudent and peaceable prince; yea, through all their towns and countries how frequently do many, and oft times our Englishmen, travel alone with safety and loving kindness?”

ESQUIMAUX INDIANS.

Captain Ross, in the Journal of his Arctic Expedition, gives the following account of his first interview with the Esquimaux, in the northern parts of Baffin’s Bay:

“These Esquimaux,” says he, “conceived the _ships to be living and flying creatures_.” * * * * “I had been employed, with a good telescope, in observing their motions, and beheld the first man approach, with every mark of fear and distrust—looking frequently behind to the other two, and beckoning them to come on, as if for support. They occasionally retreated, then advanced again, with cautious steps, in the attitude of listening; generally keeping one hand down by their knees, in readiness to pull out a knife, which they had in their boots: in the other hand they held their whips, with the lash coiled up: their sledges remained at a little distance—the fourth man being apparently stationed to keep them in readiness for escape. Sometimes they drew back the covering they had on their heads, as if wishing to catch the most distant sounds: at which time I could discern their features, displaying extreme terror and amazement, while every limb appeared to tremble as they moved.” They were requested to cross a chasm, which separated them from the interpreter, by a plank; but “appeared still much alarmed, and requested that Sackhouse (the interpreter) only should come over. He accordingly passed to the opposite side, on which they earnestly beseeched him not to touch them, as, if he did, _they should certainly die_. After he had used many arguments to persuade them that he was flesh and blood, the native, who had shown most courage, ventured to touch his hand; then, pulling himself by the nose, set up a shout, in which he was joined by Sackhouse and the other three. The presents were then distributed, consisting of two or three articles of clothing, and a few strings of beads. After which, Sackhouse exchanged his knife for one of theirs.”

Captain Ross and Lieutenant Parry then went on the ice, and, “by the time they reached it, the whole were assembled: those who had originally been left at a distance, with their sledges, having driven up to join their comrades. The party now, therefore, consisted of eight natives, with all their sledges, and about fifty dogs, two sailors, Sackhouse, Lieutenant Parry, and myself—forming a group of no small singularity, not a little increased, also, by the peculiarity of the situation on a field of ice, far from the land. The noise and clamour may be easily conceived—the whole talking and shouting together, and the dogs howling, while the natives were flogging them with their long whips, to preserve order.” Our arrival produced considerable alarm, causing them to retreat a few steps towards their sledges. On this, Sackhouse called to us to _pull our noses_, as he had discovered this to be the mode of friendly salutation among them. This ceremony was accordingly performed by each of us, the natives, during their retreat, making use of the same gesture; the nature of which we had not before understood.” Presents were then made, and, “on seeing their faces in the glasses, their astonishment appeared extreme, and they looked round in silence, for a moment, at each other, and at us. Immediately afterwards, they set up a general shout, succeeded by a loud laugh, expressive of extreme delight as well as surprise—in which we joined, partly from inability to avoid it, and willing also to show that we were pleased with our new acquaintances.” Confidence shortly after became established, and uncovering of heads was substituted for pulling of noses—the natives appearing to comprehend the nature of this ceremony more quickly than the seamen did the other, and probably not considering it a much more reasonable, although a more inconvenient, testimony of respect. They were then invited to the ship, to which one of them thought proper to _address a speech, “pausing between every question, and pulling his nose with the utmost solemnity_.” All the wonder to be expected was here excited; but the quantity of the wood and iron appeared to be the chief objects of surprise.

“Their knowledge of wood seemed to be limited to some heath of a dwarfish growth, with stems no thicker than the finger; and, accordingly, they knew not what to think of the timber they saw on board. Not being aware of its weight, two or three of them, successively, seized on the spare topmast, evidently with the view of carrying it off; and, as soon as they became familiar with the people around them, they showed that desire of possessing what they admired, which is so universal among savages. The only thing they looked upon with contempt, was a little terrier dog;—judging, no doubt, that it was too small for drawing a sledge. But they shrunk back, as if in terror, from a pig, whose pricked ears and ferocious aspect (being of the Shetland breed) presented a somewhat formidable appearance. This animal happening to grunt, one of them was so terrified, that he became, from that moment, uneasy, and appeared impatient to get out of the ship. In carrying his purpose into effect, however, he did not lose his propensity to thieving, as he seized and endeavoured to carry off the smith’s anvil: finding that he could not remove it, he laid hold of the large hammer, threw it on the ice, and following it himself, deliberately set it on his sledge, and made off.”

A CHOCTAW COUNCIL.

The conduct of the government of the United States towards the Indian tribes, however politic it may seem, is certainly not based upon the Christian precept “to do unto others as we would that they should do unto us.” All our proceedings towards them have tended to their gradual extirpation from the land of their birth. Our wars, our treaties, our purchases of land, our system of intercourse with them, have all the same end. The following extract will show how well the Indians understand this.

The reader will recollect, that it has become the settled policy of the United States to remove the several tribes of Indians to a country west of the Mississippi. In order to discuss and determine on this subject, in 1830 the Choctaw Indians held a council, in which it was resolved to sell off their lands to the United States, for one million of dollars, and to remove without the States, provided Government would give to each man a section of land, in fee simple, west of the Mississippi, and be at the expense of transporting the tribe to their place of destination, and of supporting them twelve months after their arrival. The council sat four days, and the following is a short sketch of their proceedings:—

The National Council was organized in the afternoon of the 15th of March. This was a juncture of peculiar interest. To see the rulers of a people, preparing to decide upon a course in which their posterity, to the latest generation, was deeply affected, could not but produce a deep and universal solemnity, and this interest was greatly increased by the bitter tears shed by some of the females present. The voice of sorrow is always eloquent; but, at such a season, never could the female voice speak more forcibly the sympathies of our nature. Who could avoid exclaiming, ‘O, my native country! Land of my fathers, I must leave thee!’

The Chief presented them with a concise view of the difficulties of their situation, and the alternatives which were before them, and the sad necessity of immediately making their selection. It was at the intimation, that a removal was one of the alternatives, that the women wept.

The Chief was followed by an old Captain in the nation, who, in brief simplicity, recounted his sufferings as a warrior and captain, in fighting for his White brothers, under General Jackson. He named several places where he had fought, and seen the Choctaws bleed and die. At that time, little did he think that his White brothers would ever make it necessary for him, in his old age, to leave his country, and the bones of his father. He would greatly prefer giving up his country, than submit to laws, the nature of which he could not learn, and among a people, the wicked part of whom would harass and ruin them. He expressed a belief that the President would give them a good treaty; and, if he would do so, aged as he was, he would give his voice to go to their lands west of the Mississippi—and, moreover, expressed his belief, that the Great Father above, would go with them, and bless them in their new home.

A Captain of the eastern part of the nation, next came forward. He appeared many years in advance of the first speaker. His white head, palsied limbs, and tremulous voice, made him an object of deepest interest. He was said to have been a warrior under General Wayne. He recounted some of the scenes of his past life, and the hopes which had borne him onward in his course;—he touched upon the disappointment that had clouded his setting sun; but, awakening, as if by supernatural power, he spoke boldly of his confidence in his GREAT FATHER above, and expressed his full assurance, that HE would accompany his nation, and bless them. The discussion continued until a late hour of the fourth day, when the vote was taken, and found in favour of emigration.

THE YOUNG INDIAN CHIEF.[4]

This young warrior, of fine size, figure and countenance, is now about 25 years old. At the age of 21 his heroic deeds had acquired for him in his nation the rank of “bravest of the brave.” The savage practice of torturing and burning to death their prisoners existed in this nation. An unfortunate female taken in war, of the Paduca nation, was destined to this horrible death. The fatal hour had arrived, the trembling victim, far from her home and her friends, was fastened to the stake; the whole tribe was assembled on the surrounding plain to witness the awful scene. Just when the fire was about to be kindled, and the spectators on the tiptoe of expectation, this young warrior, who sat composedly among the chiefs, having before prepared two fleet horses, with the necessary provisions, sprung from his seat, rushed through the crowd, loosed the victim, seized her in his arms, placed her on one of the horses, mounted the other himself, and made the utmost speed towards the nation and friends of the captive. The multitude, dumb and nerveless with amazement at the daring deed, made no effort to rescue their victim from her deliverer. They viewed it as an act of the Great Spirit, submitted to it without a murmur, and quietly returned to their village. The released captive was accompanied through the wilderness towards her home, till she was out of danger. He then gave her the horse on which she rode, with the necessary provisions for the remainder of the journey, and they parted. On his return to the village, such was the respect entertained for him, that no inquiry was made into his conduct; no censure was passed on it, and since the transaction, no human sacrifice has been offered in this or any other of the Pawnee tribes. Of what influence is one bold act in a good cause!

On the publication of this anecdote at Washington, the young ladies of Miss White’s Seminary, in that city, presented that brave and humane Indian with a handsome silver medal, on which was engraven an appropriate inscription, accompanied by an address, of which the following is the close:—“Brother, accept this token of our esteem; always wear it for our sake; and when you have again the power to save a poor woman from death and torture, think of this, and of us, and fly to her rescue.”

RED JACKET.

It happened during the Revolutionary war, that a treaty was held with the Indians, at which La Fayette was present. The object was to unite the various tribes in amity with America. The majority of the Chiefs were friendly, but there was much opposition made to it, more especially by a young warrior, who declared that when an alliance was entered into with America, he should consider the sun of his country as set forever. In his travels through the Indian country, when lately in America, it happened at a large assemblage of Chiefs, that La Fayette referred to the treaty in question, and turning to Red Jacket, said, “pray tell me if you can, what has become of that daring youth, who so decidedly opposed all our propositions for peace and amity? Does he still live—and what is his condition?” “I, myself, am the man,” replied Red Jacket, “the decided enemy of the Americans, as long as the hope of opposing them with success remained, but now their true and faithful ally until death.”

INDIAN MODE OF GETTING A WIFE.

An aged Indian, who for many years had spent much of his time among the white people both in Pennsylvania and New Jersey, one day, about the year 1770, observed, that the Indians had not only a much easier way of getting a wife than the whites, but were also more certain of getting a _good_ one; ‘for’ (said he in his broken English) ‘white man court—court—may be one whole year!—may be two before he marry!—well!—may be then get _very good_ wife—but, may be _not_—may be _very_ cross! Well now, suppose cross! Scold so soon as get awake in the morning! Scold all day! Scold until sleep!—all one; he must keep _him_! White people have law forbidding throwing away wife, be _he_ ever so cross! must keep _him_ always! Well? how does Indian do? Indian when he see industrious squaw, which he like, he go to _him_, place his two fore-fingers close aside each other, make two look like one—look squaw in the face—see _him_ smile—which is all one _he_ say, yes! so he take _him_ home—no danger _he_ be cross! no! no! Squaw know too well what Indian do if _he_ be cross!—throw _him_ away and take another! Squaw love to eat meat! no husband! no meat! Squaw do every thing to please husband; he do the same to please squaw! live happy!’

SHENANDOH, THE ONEIDA CHIEF.

Although the dignity of a chief is hereditary in his family, generally, the aristocracy of the Indians is not one of birth merely, nor one of wealth; but it is an aristocracy of merit. A chief is liable to be deposed for misconduct; and a brave warrior takes his place on account of the actions he has performed. Among those who have maintained an ascendancy among their countrymen by the force of individual merit, none is more remarkable than Shenandoh, the Oneida chief.

This celebrated chief, whose life measured a century, died in 1816. He was well known in the wars which occurred while the United States were British colonies; and, also, in the war of the Revolution—as the undeviating friend of the Americans.

In his youth he was very savage, and addicted to drunkenness; but, by the force of reflection, and the benevolent exhortations of a missionary to the tribe, he lived a reformed man for more than sixty years, and died in Christian hope.[5]

Shenandoh’s person was tall and muscular, but well made—his countenance was intelligent, and beamed with all the ingenuous dignity of an Indian Chief. In youth, he was brave and intrepid—in his riper years, one of the ablest counsellors among the North American tribes. He possessed a strong and vigorous mind; and, though terrible as the tornado, in war—he was bland and mild as the zephyr, in peace. With the cunning of the fox, the hungry perseverance of the wolf, and the agility of the mountain cat, he watched and repelled Canadian invasions. His vigilance once preserved from massacre the inhabitants of the then infant settlements of the German Flats. His influence brought his tribe to assist the Americans, in their war of the Revolution. His many friendly actions in their behalf, gained for him, among the Indian tribes, the appellation of the ‘_White Man’s Friend_.’

To a friend who called to see him, in his wane (he was then blind), he thus expressed himself:

“I am an aged hemlock—the winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches—I am dead at the top. The generation to which I belonged have run away and left me. Why _I_ live, the Great Spirit alone knows! Pray to my Jesus that I may have patience to wait for my appointed time to die.”

‘Indulge my native land; indulge the tear That steals impassioned o’er the nation’s doom: To me each twig from Adam’s stock is near, And sorrows fall upon an Indian’s tomb.’

INDIAN GRATITUDE AND WIT.

Soon after Litchfield began to be settled by the English, an unknown Indian came into the inn at dusk, and requested the hostess to furnish him with food and drink; stating, that he had had no success in hunting, and could not pay till he had better fortune. The woman refused; calling him a lazy, drunken, good-for-nothing fellow. A man who sat by, noticed the Indian as he turned away from the inhospitable place, and perceiving that he was suffering very severely from want and weariness, he generously ordered the hostess to furnish him with a good supper, and call on him for payment. After the Indian had finished his meal, he thanked his benefactor again and again, and assured him he should never forget his kindness, and would, if it were ever in his power, faithfully recompense it. He observed, that he had one more favor to ask; if the woman was willing, he wished to tell a story. The hostess, whose good nature had been restored by money, readily consented. The Indian, addressing his benefactor, said, “I suppose you read the Bible?” The man assented. “Well, the Bible says, God make the world; and then he took him, and looked on him, and say ‘all very good.’ Then he made light; and took him, and looked on him, and say, ‘all very good.’ Then he made land and water, sun and moon, grass and trees; and he took him, and looked on him, and say, ‘all very good.’ Then he made beasts, and birds, and fishes; and he took him, and looked on him, and say, ‘all very good.’ Then he made man; and took him, and looked on him, and say, ‘all very good.’ Then he made woman; and took him, and looked at him, and —— he no dare say one such word.”

Many years after this, the Indian’s benefactor was taken prisoner by an Indian scout, and carried into Canada. He was saved from death by one of the tribe, who asked leave to adopt him in the place of a son, who had fallen in battle. Through the winter, he experienced the customary effects of savage hospitality. The following summer as he was at work in the forest alone, an unknown Indian came to him and appointed a meeting at a certain place, on a given day. The prisoner consented; but afterwards, fearing mischief might be intended, he neglected the engagement. The Indian again sought him, reproved him for his want of confidence in him, and assured him the meeting would be for his good. Encouraged by his apparent friendship, the man followed his directions. He found the Indian provided with muskets, ammunition, and knapsacks. The Indian ordered him to arm himself and follow him. Their course was to wards the south, and day after day the Englishman followed, without being able to conjecture the motives of his guide. After a tedious journey, he arrived at the top of an eminence, commanding a view of a country somewhat cultivated and populous. “Do you know that country?” said the Indian, with an arch smile. “Oh, yes! it is Litchfield,” replied the white man, as he cordially pressed his hand. “Many years ago, you give weary Indian supper there,” said he. “He promise to pay you, and he pay you now. Go home, and be happy.”

HEAD WORK.