A Life on the American Frontiers: Collected Works of Henry Schoolcraft. Henry Rowe Schoolcraft

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ expedition entered the mouth of the St. Louis river on the 23d of June. The ascent of this stream is attended with separate portages of nine, and of three miles. There is, finally, a portage of six miles across a sandy tract, which separates the Lake Superior from the Mississippi waters, making 18 miles of land carriage. The other portions of the route consist of rapid water, much of which is shallow and interspersed with sharp rocks, requiring both strength and dexterity in the men to manage the canoes, and to repair them when injured. A part of the summit portage, immediately after quitting the Savanne river, consists of bog, the sod of which being cut through, it becomes necessary to wade in a pathway of mud and water, portions of which, are mid-thigh deep. The entire distance from Lake Superior to the Mississippi, estimating from water to water, is 150 miles. The expedition spent about ten days on this part of the route, and reached the trading house of Mr. Aitkin, on the banks of the Mississippi, on the 3rd of July. It remained there, until the evening of the 4th, giving Lieut. Allen, who was in command of the troops, an opportunity to fire a salute in honor of the day, to the no small gratification of the Indians, who, being apprized of the occasion, thronged the banks of the river to witness the ceremony.

Sandy Lake has been a post of importance in the fur trade from the earliest French times, being one of the central seats of Indian power on the Upper Mississippi. An assassination occurred here in 1785, which affords a striking illustration of the evils of using ardent spirits in the Indian country. Mr. Kay, the victim of Indian resentment on this occasion, was a gentleman of Montreal, who had come out with an adventure of Indian goods, into this region. After passing the winter on the waters of the Mississippi, he awaited the assembling of his clerks at this place, and employed himself in closing the spring business with the Indians, preparatory to his return to Michilimackinac. On the 2nd of May, he was informed of the near arrival of one of his clerks, and prepared to go and meet him. The sequel is given in a translation of the words of an eye witness, whose manuscript account is before the author.2

      “Mr. Kay said that he would himself go, although somewhat fatigued by the continual running of the Indians, the night previous. On parting he told me to draw some rum, of which he took a stout drink. And as he knew there was no rum at the post of Pine river, when he left Mr. Harris, he thought a dram would be pleasing to him also; for which reason he told me to fill one of the flagons of his liquor case, to take with him. And he gave me orders to give the Indians no drink during his absence, which was difficult, because they were already tipsey.

      “The Indians had given me the name of The Writer, which they are accustomed to do to all whom they observe writing. As soon as Mr. Kay had gone, I did not want for visits, his savagesse remaining in the tent with me. A great many Indians came in; among the number was Katawabida and Mongozid, who said to me, “Writer, give us rum!” I told them that I could not—that I was not master. They tormented me a long time. Mongozid threw to me a pair of metasses, which he had got on credit, and had not paid for, (for he was a poor paymaster,) demanding rum for them. I told him, no! He then talked with Mr. Kay’s woman, who was tired of them, as well as myself. She begged me to give them a little, after which they went out of the tent.

“Within an hour after Le Barrique Eau arrived, and told me that Mr. Harris and Mr. Pinot had actually arrived at the fish-dam. The Indians, one and all, set up a shout of joy, and ran to the beach to receive them. They did not however, meet with a very good reception, the flagon Mr. Kay had taken with him having intoxicated the whole party. They debarked, and while Mr. Harris was getting his tent pitched, Mr. Kay entered mine and took a glass in my presence. Mr. Harris was quite noisy. To complete the scene, the ferocity of Cul Blanc3 (an Indian unfriendly to Mr. K.) had returned. He had persuaded Le Cousin to stab Mr. Kay, in the course of the winter, saying to him, that he had not courage enough himself to do it. The other gloried in being equal to the commission of a crime, which he had promised to perpetrate when they came together.

      “The Cul Blanc was sitting, with many others, on a hillock, before the fire, smoking, directly before Mr. Kay’s tent. Le Cousin got up and went towards the tent, at the entrance of which he met Mr. Kay. Mr. Kay’s bed was placed across, opposite the pole supporting the tail-piece of his tent. The barrel of rum was behind the bed, in the bottom of the tent. Mr. Kay saw him coming, as he was going to take a seat beside me on the bed. At this moment Le Cousin entered. He tendered his hand, and asked for rum. Mr. Kay, who did not like the man, answered, “No! You do not pay your credits! You shall have none! Go out, immediately!” With this, he took him by the arm, and conducted him out of the tent. On turning round to re-enter, the Indian, who was armed with a knife, which he had concealed under a mantelet de calmande, gave him a stab in the back of the neck. He then retired towards the camp fire, which was surrounded by a great many Indians and our men. I got up immediately, hearing the scream of his wife, whom I perceived in front of me. “Have you been stabbed?” I inquired of Mr. Kay. “Yes!” he replied, “but he shall pay for it.” So saying he put his hand in the mess-basket and drew out a large, pointed table knife, with which he sallied furiously from the tent, without my being able to stop him. The Indians seeing the knife in his hand, asked the cause of it. He said that Le Cousin had stabbed him, and that he was in search of him to kill him. But Le Cousin had taken refuge in his own lodge which was near our camp. Mr. Kay went towards the lodge. We ran after him to prevent some fatal accident. The tumult was, by this time, very great. Great numbers were collected from all sides, and all, both French and Indians, bereft of their reason, for it was in the midst of a general carouse. In a moment, every one seized his arms, and there was a motley display of knives, guns, axes, cudgels, war-clubs, lances, &c. I found myself greatly at a non-plus, for I had not before witnessed such a scene. I saw so many preparations that I judged we should have a serious time.

      “Mr. Kay pursued Le Cousin, but before he could reach him, the passage to his lodge was blocked up by the crowd. Le Cousin’s mother asked him what he wanted. “Englishman!” said she, “do you come to kill me?” She made her way among the crowd, armed with a small knife, and reached the spot where Mr. Kay was standing, without any one’s observing the knife, for she came in an humble attitude imploring Mr. Kay for the life of her son. In a moment, Mr. Kay cried out, in a loud voice, “I am killed,” and he fell. We entered, and found that she had struck him in the side, making an incision of more than three inches. We now took him to his tent, bathed in his blood. We laid him on his bed, which in a moment, was soaking with his blood.

      “At this moment his friend Le Petit Mort, (Jeebyains) who had been tipsey and gone to sleep, started up. He ran to Mr. Kay’s tent, where the first object he saw, was his friend pale and quivering. He went and embraced him amidst a flood of tears, saying, “My friend, you are dead, but I survive to revenge you.” In contemplating a calico night-gown which Mr. Kay had on when he was wounded, and which was all bloody, he could no longer restrain his anger. He took up the knife which Mr. Kay had, at the time he was wounded, and which had been brought back by his wife, who was present. He sallied out of the tent to seek revenge, not of Le Cousin,—who was the instrument, but not the author of the murder—but of Cul Blanc, who was sitting before the fire, smoking his pipe. He seized him by the scalp-lock, drew his body back with one hand, exclaiming, “Die, thou dog!” with the other hand, he plunged a knife into his breast, Cul Blanc begging all the while for mercy.

      “This scene of carnage put a stop to the drinking. The women spilled out all the rum, of which there was still no small quantity in the different lodges. The stab Cul Blanc had received did not prove mortal, notwithstanding the ghastliness of the wound, the knife having passed out through the flesh without penetrating any vital part. But the blood issued copiously and disfigured his wife, who carried him off, trailing his blood through the camp.

      “This tragedy being finished, Le Petit Mort re-entered the tent. He told his wife, who followed him, to go and search for certain roots, which he chewed and formed into a cataplasm for the wound, after having applied his mouth to it, and sucked out the extravasated blood, an operation that caused Mr. Kay great pain. He enjoyed a little СКАЧАТЬ