Advance of Civilization.

Aboriginal America (American History, Vol. I)

Part 3

by
Jacob Abbott
New York: Sheldon & Company. Boston: Gould & Lincoln. 1860

The Child that Turned into a Wolf
Once there was a man who lived with his wife in a lonely place on the borders
of a lake. They had two children nearly grown up. The oldest was a boy. The
other was a girl. Besides these there was a third child, a boy, who was very
young.
The mother was more anxious about this little child than about either of the
others, for as she and her husband were considerably advanced in life, she was
afraid that they might not live long enough to take care of him until he should
grow up and be able to take care of himself.
At last, one day when the father was hunting in the forest he was killed by
wild beasts. The mother, with the help of her oldest boy, continued to maintain
the family for some time, but at length she fell sick and could do no more. When
she found that she was about to die she called her two oldest children to her and charged them to be kind to their little brother after
she was gone, and never forsake him. They promised that they would obey. Soon
after this the woman died.
For a time the oldest boy remained at home and took care of his sister and
brother. But at last he grew tires of hunting and fishing every day to procure
food for them, and so he went away and left them.
The girl remained at home for some time after the boy had gone away, but at
last she grew tired of taking care of her little brother, and so she went away
too.
The child was now left all alone in the wigwam. He staid there a day or two
without anything to eat, wondering all the time where his brother and sister had
gone. At last, being almost starved, he thought he would go into the woods and
see if he could not find what had become of them.
He wandered about all day, and at length toward evening he became so weak
that he could go no further, and he sank down upon the ground ready to die. But
suddenly he observed near him a she wolf feeding her young ones with the flesh
or a rabbit, or some other such animal which she had caught. The little boy
crept toward her, and the wolf, seeing how pale and exhausted he looked, gave him some of the meat. This food revived and strengthened him so that he
became quite like himself again, and he began to play with the little wolves,
and tumble about with them upon the ground.
After this the old wolf, every day when she came home with food for her young
ones, gave the boy some of it took, and he continued living with this wild
family for some time in peace and plenty.
At length, one day while he was playing with the young wolves upon the shores
of the lake, and singing a song, his brother, who was fishing on the lake in his
canoe, at some distance from the shore, heard his voice, and he at once
recognized it as that of his little brother. His conscience had often reproached
him for having forsaken the child, and he was now overjoyed to find that he was
still alive. He paddled his canoe toward the shore, and began to call his
brother by name.
But from living so long with the wolves, and partaking the same sustenance
with them, the child's nature had been gradually undergoing a change, and he was
growing like a wild animal. In a word, he was turning into a wolf himself; so
when he saw his brother approach, and heard his voice, instead of coming down to
the shore to meet him, he gave a wild cry and ran off into the woods with the young wolves
that he was with. As he went he sang a song, the burden of which was:
"I am changing into a wolf, and I cannot come;/I am changing into a wolf, and
I cannot come."
His brother went away, feeling very sorrowful and sad. He found his sister
and told her what he had seen, and during all the rest of their lives they were
both rendered very unhappy by the remorse and anguish which they suffered at the
thought of having abandoned their little brother in his helplessness, and of
having thus been the cause of his turning into a wolf.

Chapter 7
Mechanic Arts
Native Ingenuity
It is surprising how much ingenuity the Indians displayed in contriving ways
for accomplishing their various purposes, without any of the means or facilities
which we should should have considered essential. They had no iron, and could,
of course, have no good cutting tools. All the tools and implements of every
kind which were used by the Indians of the eastern part of the country were
formed of stone, or wood, or bone, or something of that sort, and although
working with such tools was an exceedingly slow and tedious process, still the
results that they finally attained were, in some cases, truly wonderful.
Some tribes, especially those that lived in the neighborhood of the great
lakes, made certain tools and implements of copper, which metal, it is said,
they had some means of hardening, so that it would cut wood tolerably well. But
they had no iron.

Accordingly, when the Europeans first came to this country, one of the things
that principally struck the Indians was their possession of knives. It is said
that the name by which the foreigners were designated among some of the tribes
was knife men. Columbus found, too, when he first landed in the West India
Islands, that the natives would barter almost anything in their possession for a
needle.
Manufacture of Weapons
The work upon which most of the skill and ingenuity of the Indians was
displayed was the manufacture of instruments to be used in hunting and in war.
The bow and arrow was the principle weapon, although they likewise used spears
and clubs of various kinds. Their spears and arrows they tipped with heads
formed of a stone nearly as hard as flint, which they could shape very exactly
by splitting off portions of the mass in a peculiar way, by a process similar to
that in which gun-flints are fashioned at the present time. These heads were
fastened to the shafts of the spear or of the arrow by means of very slender
thongs of hide put on green. These, in shrinking as they dried, would bind the
stone to the wood in the firmest manner imaginable.

Great numbers of these arrow-heads and spear-heads have been found in mounds
and in old Indian encampments, and are now preserved in museums in all parts of
the country.
These weapons were much more efficient than it would be supposed possible
that such rude contrivances could be. Of course, in throwing an arrow from a bow
everything depends upon the strength of the arm which discharges it. But it is
said that some of the western Indians could shoot an arrow swifter than a bullet
could be thrown from a gun, and one of them has been known to pass entirely
through the body of a buffalo -- at least so it is stated on what seems to be
very good authority. When De Soto landed in Florida his horse was shot under
him, in an attack from the Indians, by an arrow which passed through the
covering of the saddle, and entered seven or eight inches into the animal's
side.
In one case, too, when a man was killed by one of these arrows, the head of
it was found imbedded in the solid part of the bone of his leg, so that it could
not be pulled out again.
After all, however, the immense superiority of the European fire-arms became
immediately apparent, when the comparison came to be made between the two
classes of weapons. Some very amusing accounts are given by the early explorers of the American Continent, of the astonishment
of the Indians sometimes manifest when they first witnessed the effects produced
by a discharge of musketry. They were not always pleased to find how immensely
superior the weapons of the white man were.
Superiority of Fire-Arms
A party of French explorers under the command of a certain officer named
Laudonniere, whose adventures will be narrated in full in the third volume of
this series, when making an excursion in boats up a certain river in Florida,
and landing from time to time to communicate with the Indians, and to trade with
them, were received at one time by a chieftain in his village, who in the course
of the interview proposed a trail of the muskets of the visitors against the
bows and arrows of his warriors. Laudonniere gives an account of the affair in
the following language:
"In our discoursing with one another wee entered into speach as touching the
exercise of armes. Then the chief caused a corselet to be set on end and prayed
me to make a proofe of our Harguebuzes and their bowes. But this proofe, when we
had made it, pleased him very little. For as soon as he knew that our
Harguebuzes did easily pearce that which all the force of their bowes could not
hurt he seemed to be sorie, musing, with himselfe how this thing might be done."

Curious Modes of Making Handles
One of the nicest operations with us, in the practice of the mechanical arts,
is that of putting a handle to a tool in such a manner that it shall be firm and
strong, and capable of standing the heavy usage to which many tools are subject.
The Indians had several ingenious modes of accomplishing this purpose.
Sometimes, as has been stated in another place, they made the handle of a withe,
which was wound around the took, in a groove hewn in the stone for the purpose.
The withe was put on when green, and by this means it could be closely fitted,
and then when dry it became perfectly rigid and firm.
Another mode was to make a cleft in a young and growing stem and carefully
insert the tool into is in such a manner that the two parts of the stem should
closely embrace the groove of the tool, and then leave the whole until the wood
should grow over the stone so as to hold it securely. The stem was then cut off
and the shaft of it fashioned into the proper form.
Stone-Headed Mace
Some of the tribes had an ingenious way of fastening a round stone to the end
of a long handle for the purpose of forming a mace or war-club. They would draw a piece of green
hide over the stone, and bring the edges of it down round the handle, and lash
it there by means of a thong of the same material wound round and round it, in a
close spiral. The result was that the hide, in drying, would shrink and harden,
and bind the stone in the firmest possible manner to the handle. By this means a
weapon of a very formidable character was produced.
Military Ornaments
The Indians displayed a great deal of skill in making ornaments of various
kinds with which to decorate their chiefs when going to war. These ornaments
were made of the horns of animals, the feathers of birds, porcupine quills, and
of long hair dyed of various brilliant colors. They particularly prized the
feathers of eagles for these decorations, on account of the fierce and terrible
courage of that bird, which they seemed to imagine imparted an expression of
martial prowess to his very plumes.
For the same reason the great warriors chose for their clothing the skins of
the fiercest and most formidable beasts of prey. A warrior dressed in full in
these habiliments -- his spear, his head-dress, his sleeves, and the borders of his garments all adorned with feathers and
fringes of hair dyed of the most gaudy colors -- presented sometimes a most
extraordinary spectacle.

Indian Chief in his Military Dress

It is quite a remarkable fact that, among all Indian tribes, it was the
prevailing fashion for the men to wear the finery. The women were all accustomed
to dress in a very plain and unostentatious manner. It is curious to observe,
too, that among all the animals inferior to man it is the male usually that
monopolizes the gaudy decorations.
Hunting and Fishing
Great was the ingenuity which the Indians displayed in hunting and trapping game and in catching fish, both from the inland waters
and from the sea. In hunting they depended mainly on stratagem. Indeed, their
weapons were so few and the range attainable by them was so limited, that
artifice and wiles became almost necessarily their main resource.
They were very ingenious, too, in contriving traps to set for wild animals.
The most common mode of setting a trap was by poising one end of a log of wood,
larger or smaller according to the size and strength of the animal to be taken,
in such a manner that, on touching a stick to which the bait was attached, the
log would fall down and crush the victim beneath it. An Indian would go forth in
the morning from his wigwam, and take a great circuit through the forest,
setting traps of this kind at different places along the way. He would keep his
bow in his hand all the time, with an arrow ready at any moment to be adjusted
to the string, and would creep along stealthily as he advanced, looking out in
every direction, both on the ground and upon the trees, and noticing every
indication, however slight, of any animals being near. He looked carefully for
tracks, for marks of browsing upon the trees, for branches bent or broken down, and for every other sign or token which a passing animal
might leave.
Solitary Habit of the Indian
In his march through the woods on these expeditions the Indian was always
alone. Even if, for any reason, two or more persons were going the same way,
they did not walk together, making their observations in common, and beguiling
the gloom and solitude of the forest by conversation. That would have diverted
their attention and interfered with their work. So in such cases they walked at
a a distance from each other, each making his own observations and keeping his
own watch. It is a general law of nature, as has already been remarked, that
wild animals seeking prey are silent and solitary in their habits, prowling
about stealthily and avoiding their own kind while watching for their victims.
In these hunting excursions the Indian himself was little else than a wild
animal seeking his prey, and he was endowed by nature with the qualities that
pertain to such a condition.
Summer Hunting
In summer hunting the Indian killed animals for the sake of their flesh, to
be used for food, for in the summer, and especially in the latter part of it, all such animals are
fat, and their flesh is in the best possible condition to be eaten. If the
hunter took more than he needed at this season for his immediate wants, his wife
preserved the surplus by smoking or drying it in the manner already explained.
In these summer excursions the Indian often went in his canoe, following the
streams or the shores of a lake or pond, and landing here and there in secluded
places, to go in among the thickets and set his traps, or examine those set the
day before. Generally he was alone in his canoe. If, however, he had a
companion, they both preserved the same silence and caution as when on the land.
Each would, in his own part of the canoe, ply his paddle, watching the shores of
the stream and the trees which overhung the bank, as the boat went on, and
looking earnestly into every hidden recess. Thus they would glide on without a
word. On such excursions they deemed it necessary that silence, vigilant and
constant circumspection, and a readiness that was never off its guard to spring
forward in an instant, whenever an emergency might arise requiring sudden
action, should be maintained without any intermission; for besides the danger
that by inattention they might miss their game, their own personal safety was at stake. A wild beast might at any
moment spring upon them from a thicket, or a shower of arrows from a party of
human enemies come whistling through the air from some unobserved ambuscade.
All their faculties were thus kept, on these excursions, in a state of close
and constant tension, and being engaged as they were, for a great portion of
their time, in these pursuits, they acquired the habit of being silent, grave,
watchful and cunning, in all their demeanor.
Night Hunting
Among some tribes a practice prevailed of hunting deer in a very singular
way, and one in which there must sometimes have been produced a very striking
and picturesque effect. The method was by fascinating the deer, as it were, by
means of a bright fire made to float down at night on a solitary stream. The
fire was built upon the bow of a canoe -- a small platform covered with sand
having first been made there to serve as a fire-place. Behind the fire a thick
screen, made of the branches of evergreen trees, was placed, and behind this
screen the hunter was concealed, armed with his bow and arrow, and ready for
instantaneous action.

The deer, seeing this bright light upon the water, would come down to the
brink and gaze at it, under the influence of a sort of fascination, by which he
was spell-bound, as it were, and held motionless on the shore until the boat
came near enough for the hunter to transfix him with his arrow.
Snow Shoes
The snow shoe which the hunter used in winter was substantially a flat piece
of basket work, of an oval form, which formed a broad extension of the sole of
his moccasin, and prevented his foot from sinking beneath the surface of the
snow, whether it was the light, powdery drift of a fresh fall that he was
walking upon, or the damp, heavy mass into which the beams of the sun transform
the old snow of the woods and fields in the spring.
A snow shoe, such as the Indians used, is made as follows: First, a strip of
flexible wood is bent into an oval from for the outside frame. Two bars are then
carried across from side to side and lashed to their places by thongs of green
hide. These bars serve the double purpose of bracing the outer rim and keeping
it to its form, and also as points of support for the heel and toes. The
interstices of the frame thus made are then filled by stretching a skin over them and sewing it to the outer rim, or by weaving in, over the
intervening space, a sort of basket-work of thongs.
When the shoe is to be put on, the toe is slipped under a strap attached to
the front bar and is fastened there. The heel is not fastened, but rises from
the shoe when the foot is lifted, so that the shoe is raised and moved by the
toe alone. Indeed, the heel of the snow shoe is not raised at all in the act of
walking. The toe only is lifted, and the heel is dragged along upon the snow
till the toe is put down again. Of course, it is only a very inconvenient and
shuffling kind of walking that can be performed in this way, but it is much
better than sinking at every step two or three feet into the snow.
Adventures in the Woods
Of course the Indians, in their excursions in the forests, were sometimes
themselves attacked by wild beast that had been made fierce by hunger or had
become excited in other ways. The forests which they traversed were inhabited by
bears, wolves, wild cats, and other ferocious beasts of prey, that often, when
hungry, would attack men. And even the more gentle and peaceable animals, such
as the buffalo and the moose, during certain seasons and in certain states of excitement, sometimes became formidable. The
Indian was generally prepared for these encounters, and, notwithstanding the
inferiority of his weapons, he almost always came off victorious from them.
A story is related of a young Indian who had been setting traps in the woods
and was returning home, when suddenly he saw among the trees a large moose
coming toward him with a very threatening air. He had nothing with him but a
knife -- one probably made of stone. He retreated behind a tree; the moose
advanced. He watched his opportunity and fell behind another tree -- the moose
advancing all the time and tearing up the ground with his hoofs, evidently in a
state of great excitement. The Indian contrived, while dodging about from one
tree to another, to get out his knife and cut a pole. He also pulled off one of
his moccasins and drew out the string which tied it. By means of this string he
lashed his knife to the end of his pole, thus forming a rude sort of spear.
All the time while he was making these preparations the moose was hotly
pursuing him, and he could only keep out of his way by running from one tree to
another, by which means, however, he could only gain a moment's shelter at a
time.

When at length the weapon was completed he attacked the moose in his turn,
aiming his thrusts at the animals' throat, and still seeking shelter behind a
tree after every blow. At length, after a long contest, during which many wounds
were given, the moose became exhausted with his frantic exertions and his loss
of blood, and he was finally killed
When afterwards the friends of the Indian came with him to the place, to
secure the carcass, they found the grass and the underbrush trampled down and
covered with blood for a great distance around.
Fishing
The Indians evinced a great deal of ingenuity in their contrivances for
fishing. They could make a sort of twine by twisting together the fibers of a
certain kind of bark, and with this they could make nets. In setting these nets
they used pieces of wood for floats, and stones for sinkers. In the winter they
would sometimes set these nets beneath the ice by making a row of holes in the
ice along the line where they wised the net to be placed, and then they would
contrive by some means to pass the net underneath from one hole to another, till
it extended the whole length of the line, and when in this position the stones would carry it down to the bottom.

Bow and Arrow Fishing

Sometimes in the summer they used to take fish by shooting them with an arrow
while they were swimming in the water, they themselves standing on the bank and watching till
they saw the fish come sufficiently near. In such cases a string was attached to
the arrow, by means of which the fish could be drawn to the land and the arrow
also recovered.
Note: Any young reader of this book, who may feel disposed to ascertain
practically what degree of difficulty attends this mode of fishing, may easily
make the experiment by heating a large fish-hook in the fire, in order to take
out the temper, and then carefully straightening it and inserting it into the
end of his arrow, and shooting at any fishes which he may see swimming near the
shore. Before he succeed in hitting many of them, he will have to learn
something about the refraction of light, as affecting the apparent position of
objects seen under water, which boys are not all supposed to understand.
It is astonishing to what perfection of workmanship some of the Indians
attained in the fabrication of their bows and arrows. The bows were formed of
various materials, and sometimes, as, for example, when they were made of
substances like horn, they were spliced and strengthened in a very ingenious
manner. A western traveler saw one a few years since in the hands of a chief
which was worth the price of two horse, and he actually bought two horses, at
twenty-five dollars a piece, to give in exchange for the bow. The string was
made of the sinews of a deer.

The arrows, too, were very nicely made. There were two kinds, one for hunting
and one for war. A good quiver would contain a hundred arrows, and an expert
hunter could, if necessary, draw and shoot fifteen or twenty in a minute,
running all the time at the top of his speed, either toward or from his enemy or
his game.
Sometimes, instead of shooting the fish with arrows, the Indians speared them
through the ice. In this latter case they would first make a hole in the ice,
and then lie down upon their faces over it, so as to look into the water. They
would then cover their heads with a mat or with evergreen boughs, in order to
protect their eyes from the glare of the sun, and in this way they could see
almost or quite to the bottom. They would then put down through the hole a
little fish on the end of a pointed stick for bait. They would hold this stick
in the left hand, and with the right they would hold the spear, and when the
fish came to the bait, with a sudden and very dexterous thrust of the spear they
would impale him.
They had a very ingenious sort of spear which they used on this and on other
occasions. it had several prongs, and each prong was armed with a sharp point
made of bone or of horn, and dexterously fastened to the wood in such a manner
that it could be thrust into the fish, and yet so slightly fastened that when the
fish struggled to escape, the point would come off and remain sticking in his
flesh. There was a cord attached to the point, which passed up into the hand of
the fisherman. Thus, when the fish was pierced and attempted to swim away, the
fisherman could control his motions by the line, just as an angler does at the
present day, and so finally, when he became exhausted, bring him to the land.
This was the nearest approach to our contrivance of a fish-hook which they were
able to accomplish. Some of these spear-heads were very nicely made, and were
barbed by means of a second point delicately lashed to the principal one at the
proper angle. Sometimes these points were made of thorns.
Various Manufactures
The Indians were accustomed to fabricate various other articles of simple
construction and use, such as a sort of awl, or rather stiletto, from a thorn,
by which, in sewing, they made holes for the thread, in the skin, or the birch
bark, or whatever the material might be that they were at work upon. Besides
leggins and moccasins, they made a number of other useful articles by means of
these needles, such as pouches to told tobacco, and small bags called paint-bags, to contain ochres and other pigments which they used to
paint their faces with, and also quivers to contain their arrows. Some of these
things were made plain, but others were ornamented with embroidery, fringes of
dyed hair, feathers, porcupine quills, and other such things, in a most
elaborate manner.
In weaving mats they used a long, slender piece of bone for working in the
filling -- the rushes forming the warp. This bone served the purpose of a
shuttle, and the mats woven by it were very compact and strong. The shuttle had
a cleft formed in each end, so that the thread that was used for the filling
could be wound upon it.
They manufactured also a great variety of pipes, some of them considerably
artistic in form and finish. The material of these pipes was usually some sort
of stone soft enough to be worked by such tools as they could command, but often
they were made of clay and baked in the fire. When made of stone the bowls were
ground out by means of a hard-pointed stick, of the shape of the intended
cavity, worked with sand and water.
Painting the Face
The custom of painting the face and other parts of the body seems to have
originated in that of oiling the skin, which, it is said, produced a salutary effect in the summer by
checking the perspiration in some degree, and defending the person from the
attacks of insects. This latter end was the better attained when some foreign
substance was mixed with the oil, and in choosing the substance to be applied it
was natural that savages should soon learn to fancy something that was
ornamental as well as useful. In certain tropical countries, where the natives
are in a state of great barbarism, a custom prevails of anointing the body with
a wash of thin mud or clay, which, when it is dried and hardened, forms a coat
that the proboscis of gnats and midges cannot penetrate. The Indians, with their
colored ochres ground in oils which they had obtained from the beavers and the
bears, considered themselves doubtless on a far higher level of refinement and
civilization than such poor savages as these, daubed with a mere paste of clay.
The Tikkinagon
Although the women were very little in the habit of decorating themselves,
but surrendered all fringes and feathers and other such finery to their husbands
and sons, they sometimes expended a great deal of time and labor in making and
decorating the little cradle, if cradle it may be called, which was prepared for the baby.
In the language of some of the tribes it was called a Tikkinagon.
This contrivance, as has already been said, was formed of a board, or of some
flat fabric of their own make equivalent to a board. Near the foot of it was a
projection like a shelf to support the baby's feet. This projection was often
curved so as to come up a little way on each side of the legs, in order to
support them laterally. There was a socket made for the head, which was padded
with soft moss, and there was a strap which came over the forehead when the baby
was put into its place, so as to stay the head and keep it from rolling about.
There were other bands which passed across from side to side over the breast and
thighs of the baby. The whole was often very elaborately made, and all the bands
and borders were ornamented with carvings and embroidery in a very curious
manner.
The position of the poor baby, when put into a Tikkinagon, was, of course,
fixed and immovable, for his head and limbs were fastened in every part, so that
he could not move them at all. In this condition he looked more like an Egyptian
mummy that had been three thousand years embalmed, then like a living child just
coming forward into being.

He bore the confinement, however, with a stoicism characteristic of his race.
Whether in his rigid and unyielding couch he was strapped to his mother's back
upon a journey, or laid down upon the bottom of a goat, or hung up in a tree, he
was silent, patient, motionless, and, to all appearance, totally unconcerned;
thus showing that the very low degree of sensibility, both to excitement and to
pain, and the emotionless and passive taciturnity which so strongly mark the
race, were qualities native and hereditary, not acquired.
The Tikkinagon, however, sometimes contained a slight recognition of the
baby's claim to be provided with something to occupy and amuse him, as a strip
of elastic wood was not unfrequently attached to the board, with certain little
shells and pebbles fastened to the end of it, in such a manner that, when the
board was swinging from a tree, the little nursling would have those toys
jingling before him.
Fire
The Indians manifested much ingenuity in their mode of obtaining fire. It was
very seldom that it was necessary to do this by artificial means, for they were
very careful not to allow the fires in their wigwams to go out; and if at any
time one went out the others were at hand from which to renew it. Preserving their fires was thus an object of special attention. At certain
places where councils were held provision was made, as in the case of the vestal
temple in Rome, for keeping up a perpetual fire.
Still it would often happen that hunting parties far away from home, and
sometimes the inhabitants of a solitary wigwam, would be without fire, and
without any means at hand of obtaining it except by some artificial process. It
is well known that all friction produces heat, and that the friction of two dry
pieces of wood, if sufficiently violent and long continued, will inflame them,
but it is very difficult, without some appropriate machine, to maintain a
powerful friction long enough to produce the effect. Very few civilized men can
get fire from dry wood by such a process.
The way in which the Indians managed it was this: They would first make a
small cavity in a piece of very dry wood of a certain kind -- it was only wood
of a certain kind that would answer the purpose. They made the cavity by boring
into the wood with the point of a sharp stone. Then they would select a long,
round stick -- which must be also perfectly dry -- and from the end of it to a
point rudely fitting the cavity which they had bored.

To perform the operation, after the arrangements were thus made, required
three men. Setting the stick upright in the hole, one of the men would take hold
at the top, and by rolling it to and fro between his two hands would cause the
point to turn rapidly this way and that in the cavity. He would bear down also
with his hands as he rolled the stick between them, in order to keep the point
of the stick in the hole and also to increase the friction. But, in consequence
of this bearing down, his hands would gradually descend as he rolled. When he
had nearly reached the bottom the second man stood ready to begin at the top by
taking the stick between hishands in the same manner. By this means the rotation
of the point of the stick in the hole was kept up without any intermission until
at length smoke, and soon afterward sparks of fire, would appear.
The third person engaged in the operation stood by all the while watching the
process, and holding apiece of punk, or spunk, as it is sometimes called, in his
hand, ready to catch the first spark as soon as it should appear. As soon as his
punk was on fire he would blow it with his breath, and finally, by means of it,
set fire to a little heap of dried leaves and sticks which he had previously
collected for the purpose.

Wampum
One of the most curious things connected with Indian ingenuity and art was
wampum. Wampum served many important purposes in the domestic and social economy
of all the tribes. It was used as a material for ornaments, as money, and also
as a means of making records and documents of all kinds.
It consisted of strings of what might be called beads. These beads were made
of shells found upon the sea shore, and worn to a proper form by being rubbed on
stones of a sandy texture. They were flat and round, about half an inch in
diameter, and perhaps an eighth of an inch thick. There was a hole in the center
of each by which it could be put upon a string. There was a certain number which
formed what was called a string and a number of strings fastened together, side
by side, formed a belt.
There were two principal kinds of beads, the white and the purple. The white
were made from any shell that would furnish material of that color, and were of
much less value than the others, which were made of shells that were more rare.
The strings and belts of different colored beads, variously intermingled,
were used a great deal for ornaments, in the form of bracelets, necklaces, and the like. They were also
used as money. For a small purchase a string was sufficient, and for a larger
one a belt. Sometimes, to adjust the payment exactly to the price agreed upon,
one or more strings would be attached to a belt, or additional beads to a
string.
After the white men came into the country, and by their dealings with the
Indians established, in some sort, the relative value of these beads and English
money, six beads of the common sort were reckoned at one penny.
In the treaties made by the early settlers with the Indian tribes, and in
various other transactions in which they were mutually concerned, we read of
great quantities of wampum being passed from one party to another in making
payments. In such cases the amount was reckoned by fathoms, and many hundreds of
fathoms were sometimes stipulated for, to be received or paid in important
transactions. When the Indians had these large amounts to pay, it sometimes
required many months for them to make up the sum, and in such cases they would
often pay a portion on account, and ask an extension on the balance due.
Of course, the wampum so paid to the colonists was of no use to them except
to pay back to individual Indians again in exchange for baskets, furs, skins, and other articles that were
really useful to the settlers.
Wampum Used for Records and Documents
Another very important use to which wampum was applied was for records and
accounts, and indeed for documents of all kinds. The people had a way of
arranging beads of various kinds. For example, one arrangement denoted a beaver
skin, another a certain amount of corn. Another combination would denote a
promise to give or to pay, and others still would represent the persons who were
parties to the transaction. On the same principle there were symbols to denote
days, or weeks, or months, and others representing different numbers. it is
obvious that by combining these symbols in a proper manner a rude memorandum
might be made of any simple transaction, which, if it could not be perfectly
understood without explanation by a third person, was at least a very good
memorial for the use of parties to it.
In one respect this mode of executing bonds and promissory notes was superior
to ours, inasmuch as in the case of the failure on the part of the promissor to
perform his promise, the obligation which he had given was not, as with us, waste paper, but, so far as it went, it
was cash in itself, and could be spent as such like any other money.
Treaties and Public Records
Treaties were made in this way, and records kept of all important events and
transactions in the history of the tribes; and it is said that at stated periods
the great sachems were accustomed to assemble around their council fires and
look over the public wampum, to refresh their memories in respect to the meaning
of the different strings , and to explain it to the young chieftains, in order
that a proper understanding of the facts and transactions recorded by them might
be handed down from generation to generation.
It is obvious that without some precaution of this kind the precise
significancy of these rude records would soon be lost. And yet it was found that
the memory of the to any transaction, when assisted by a memorandum of this
kind, was exceedingly tenacious. A story is told of a European who, having
received some favor from an Indian, gave him a string of wampum, saying that it
was a pledge that he was the Indian's friend, and that if any occasion should
ever arise he would serve him to the utmost of his power. Forty year afterward the Indian, being then old, friendless and destitute, came to the
gentleman, bringing the wampum with him, and claimed the performance of the
promise, offering the wampum at the same time as proof that the promise had been
given. The gentleman at once acknowledged the obligation and honorably fulfilled
it.
Pictorial Writing
A great number of the Indian tribes had another mode of recording
transactions and events besides this contrivance of wampum, and that was by rude
drawings representing pictorially the transaction or event which they wished to
describe. The material on which these drawings were made was usually birch bark,
which makes a very good paper for such a purpose. But sometimes the figures were
painted upon the smooth surface of a rock by the wayside, or upon the stem of a
tree, the rough outer bark having been first scraped away.
For the purpose of making these records, every considerable hunter had a
certain symbol, usually the form of some animal, which stood for his name, and
was known to all his acquaintances. There was some sign to show when the figure
of the animal was to be understood in this symbolic sense

and when it was to be taken literally. All visible objects were represented, of
course, in rude drawings, in outline, of the objects themselves. Then there were
certain principles of arrangement, and various arbitrary signs, that were well
understood among the people, which, in connection with the use of these figures,
enabled them to communicate quite a complicated piece of information in a
comparatively simple yet intelligible manner. This mode of communicating ideas
will be best illustrated by an example.

Specimen of the Writing

The engraving is the exact copy of a notice posted up on a pole in the woods
by the Indians of a certain company that had encamped there during the night and
which was left in order to give information respecting themselves to others who
might afterwards visit the spot. It was a company consisting chiefly of
Europeans, though there were two Indian chiefs who acted as guides, and it was these two Indians who posted the
notice. The European portion of the party consisted of a commander and five
persons appointed to various functions under him, such as secretary, surveyor,
mineralogist, and the like. These are represented by a row of figures in the
center of the picture, reading them from right to left in the order in which
such a column would march. The first man is the commander, as is denoted by his
sword. The others are represented by appropriate symbols -- the secretary with a
book, the mineralogist with a hammer, the surveyor with instruments, and so on.
These objects which appear small and indistinct in the engraving, which is much
reduced, were large enough to be distinct in the original. That these men were
Europeans is denoted by their wearing hats.
Next to them, at the end of the middle line, to the left, are two Indians,
shown to be such by their being bare-headed. Beyond is a fire, showing that
these persons formed one mess at their encampment.
Above is a line of figures denoting that the party was escorted by eight
soldiers armed with muskets, who together formed another mess, as is denoted by
their fire. The men and the muskets are represented separately. This was to simplify the work of making the drawing
-- it being less difficult to draw the guns by themselves than in the hands of
the men. On the corner below are delineated the figures of two animals which had
been killed the day before for food.
This document, executed upon a large piece of birch bark, was attached by the
Indians that made it to a pole which was set in the ground in a slanting
direction, the top of the pole pointing out the course which the party making
the record had taken in continuing their journey.
It is curious to observe in the work, especially in the mode of drawing, the
men, how ingeniously the artists contrived to make their delineations as much as
possible by straight lines, and with very few of these in each figure. This was
quite necessary, considering the intractable nature of the materials which they
had at command, and the very moderate degree of skill which they were able to
exercise in using them.

Chapter 8
Indian Legends and Tales
Travelers Among the Indians
In every period since the first arrival of Europeans in the country there
have been many persons who have taken great pleasure in visiting the Indian
tribes, and even in living among them for considerable periods, for the purpose
of studying their manners and customs, learning their language, and listening to
their legends and tales; and many of these visitors, on their return to the
civilized world, have published what they have thus discovered.
The tales and legends which some of these travelers say were related to them
from time to time, as they sat on some summer evening in the open air amid a
little circle of listeners gathered from an Indian encampment, or assembled in
winter around the wigwam fire, are, or at least many of them are, exceedingly
curious, and they give us considerable insight into the manners and customs, And still more into the ideals and sentiments which prevailed among the
different nations. The following are among some of these legends. The first is
an account of the origin of man, as given by a tradition handed down by one of
the western tribes:
Origin of Man
In ancient times there was a snail living upon the banks of the Mississippi.
He lived there in peace and quietness for some time, until at last a great
inundation came and he was in danger of being drowned. He crawled upon a log to
save his life, and while he was upon it the log was lifted up by the water and
borne away down the stream.
At length it was cast upon a bank and the snail crept off from it to the
shore; but instead of landing upon hard ground he found only mud and slime. He
crawled along over the soft surface a little way, but presently the sun came up,
and shining very hot, it suddenly dried up in the mud, and, as it were, baked
the poor snail in.
He struggled for some time to get free, and at last, faint with hunger and
exhausted with fatigue, he was about giving up in despair when suddenly he found
himself undergoing a strange transformation, and at the same time increasing
marvelously in a size. Legs were growing out from him below and a head and arms above. In
short, he found himself turning into a man.
The transformation was soon complete, and he stood out upon the bank changed
into a perfect human form, but emaciated and weak, and more hungry than ever.
Indeed, he was almost starved. He was naked, too, as well as hungry, and thus
his limbs were exposed and defenceless. Though he saw birds flying around him in
the air, and land animals moving to and fro, he did not know how to proceed in
order to procure food and clothing from them.
At length the Great Spirit appeared to him and called him by name,
expressing, at the same time, a feeling of kindness and sympathy for him in his
destitute and helpless condition.
The Great Spirit brought him a a bow and arrow and showed him how to shoot a
deer with it. When the deer was killed he showed him that the flesh was good for
food.
When the man had cooked his food and eaten it and thus appeased his hunger,
the Great Spirit told him that cold winds and rains would come, and that he must make himself some clothing to protect his limbs from them; and
he taught him how to make a garment from the skin of the deer which he had
killed.
The Great Spirit also put a string of wampum round his neck, saying to him as
he did so, "This is the badge of your authority over all the animals of
creation."
The Great Spirit then disappeared.
The man, after this, in rambling on through the country, met the beaver. He
commanded the beaver to submit to him, and showed him the necklace of wampum
which the Great Spirit had given him as the badge of his authority.
But the beaver, instead of simply complying with this demand, took the man
home with him to his lodge. The man was very kindly received by the beaver's
wife and children, and he learned from inspection of the lodge in which they
lived how to build a house for himself.
Very soon he fell in love with the beaver's daughter and demanded her in
marriage. His demand was acceded to, and in due time the marriage was
celebrated.
It was a very great wedding. All the birds in the air and all the animals in
the woods were invited to it, and great were the festivities and rejoicings.

From this union all the races of men were descended.
The narrator of the legend, by way of giving his authority for it to the
traveler who recorded it, closed with these words:
There is among the other stories one which seems designed to illustrate the
value of a contented and happy disposition.
Old Boreas and Shingebiss
In ancient times there was a man named Shingebiss. He lived in a lodge which
he had built for himself on the margin of the water.
When the winter came it was very cold. Shingebiss had four logs of wood, and
as the winter was to be four months long, he had just one log for each month,
and he was consequently obliged to keep very little fire, so as to burn his logs
very slowly, in order to make them last until the spring.
He had nothing for food but the fish which he could catch in the stream. But
the stream was frozen over so hard that it was impossible to break through the
ice. He, however, looked about and found openings or weak places where the flags and rushes grew, and through these
openings he caught his fish. When the fish were caught he dragged them home
across the ice, strung together upon a string.
At last old Boreas saw him and said to himself, "This man is as contented and
happy in this cold season as if it were June. He seems to despise me. I'll go
and pay him a visit, and see what I can do to make him feel my power."
Note: The name in the original is the Indian name for the north wind.
So old Boreas blew upon him and made him very cold on the side that was
turned away from the fire. So Shingebiss turned first one side and then the
other to the fire, but still went on singing his song.
Then old Boreas went out upon the stream and froze up all the openings which
the flags and rushes had made.
"Now," said he to himself, when he had done this, "he can get no fishes, and
will starve."
But Shingebiss did not despair. He continued his search upon the ice till he found new openings, and by patience and
perseverance he broke open those that Boreas had closed up, and so caught more
fishes; and when he had caught them he dragged them home to his lodge, over the
ice, as happy as ever.
"He must be helped by the Great Spirit," said old Boreas. "I can neither
freeze him nor starve him. I will let him alone."
There is a love story, which shows that the instincts and sentiments of woman
were the same in those rude states of society as among the most highly civilized
nations on the globe. It is as follows:
The Story of Ampata
Ampata was the wife of a brave young warrior. She had two children. She lived
for a time with her husband and children in great happiness. Sometimes their
home was on the prairie, sometimes they built their wigwam in the forest near
the banks of a stream. Ampata used to paddle her canoe up and down the rivers in
search of bulrushes for mats, or bark for her wigwam, or fuel for her fire. In
summer they lived in open ground, but in the winter they chose a more sheltered position on the margin of a wood, where it opened toward the sun. Thus their
lives flowed on a very smoothly and happily.
Ampata's husband gradually increased in influence in his tribe, until finally
he came to be a chief. This filled Ampata's heart with pride and she loved her
husband more than ever.
But the increased rank and importance to which her husband attained, as
Ampata soon discovered, interfered very much with the domestic peace and
quietness which they had before enjoyed. He now became a public man. His wigwam
was always filled with visitors, and as his consequence in the nation increased,
his ambition, instead of being satisfied, became excited more and more. At
length, in order to widen and extend his influence, he conceived the idea of
taking a second wife, the daughter of a noted chieftain who lived near.
When Ampata heard this she was greatly alarmed. She remonstrated with her
husband, but he would not listen to her. It would give him greater influence in
the tribe to marry another wife, he said, and marry her he would.
When Ampata heard this she was greatly alarmed. She remonstrated with her
husband, but he would not listen to her. It would give him greater influence in
the tribe to marry another wife, he said, and marry her he would.
Ampata immediately resolved that she would not stay in the lodge to be thus
humiliated by her husband. Accordingly, before he brought his new wife home, she fled, taking her two children with her, and returned to her
father's lodge almost broken-hearted.
She remained with her father and with his connections during the winter, but
her grief and despondency were not at all relieved by the lapse of time. In the
spring, when her farther's party were coming down the Mississippi with the furs
which they had taken during the winter, she came with them. She had her two
children with her in her canoe. When at length the boats began to draw near the
falls of St. Anthony, and turned aside at the commencement of the rapids to go
to the land, She did not turn with them, but pressed on into the middle of the
stream.
The whirl and turmoil of the water became now so violent that the boat was
borne onward with great speed, and the paddle was no longer of any avail. So
Ampata rose from her seat, and holding the paddle extended in her arms made her
farewell lament in the following terms:
"It was him only that I loved, and I loved him with all my heart. It was for
him that I prepared the fresh-killed game, and swept with boughs the hearth
before my wigwam fire. It was for him that I dressed and sewed the skin of the
deer, and embroidered the mocassins that adorned his feet.

"How I waited in my lodge the live-long day for his return from the chase,
and how my heart was filled with joy when I heard his footsteps coming!
"My heart was bound up in him. He was all the world to me. But he has left me
for another, and life is now a burden which I cannot bear. Even my children add
to my grief. I see in their faces him image, and they bring him continually to
my mind.
"I have prayed to the Great Spirit to take back the life that he gave, as I
do not desire it any longer, and I am now on the current by means of which he is
going to fulfill my prayer. I see the white foam of the water -- it is my
shroud. I hear the roaring of the fall -- it is my funeral song. Farewell."
It was too late for her friends to arrest her course. They saw the canoe
enter the foam; they saw it poise itself for a moment on the brink of the
cataract, and then it disappeared in the awful abyss below.
The story concludes by saying that sometimes now, the benighted traveler,
standing at midnight on the shores of the river, sees by the light of the
moonbeams, in the opening of the mist and spray, the form of Ampata's canoe just
ready to take the fearful plunge. It appears there for a moment on the brink, and then the mist
closing over it shuts it out from view.
This story of the poor, disappointed, and forsaken wife may have been true,
precisely as it is here related. The next is of a very different character,
being an old tradition of a very decidedly marvelous type. it explains how it
happens that the dormouse is so small.
Trap Set for Catching the Sun
In former times, when the animals that lived on the earth were more powerful
than men, they killed and devoured all but two persons -- a girl and her little
brother. These two made their escape, and, flying far away into the forests,
they lived there in a secret place, in great fear.
The girl was the oldest of the two, the boy being so small that he was
utterly helpless. A big bird might have flown away with him, The girl took all
the care of providing food for both, but when she went into the woods to get
food or fuel she always took her little brother with her, for he was too small
to be left alone.
At last she made him a bow and arrow of a size adapted to his strength, and
when she went next into the woods she said to him:

"When I have done chopping in the woods and am ready to go home, I will leave
you behind a little while with your bow and arrow, to shoot little snow birds
that come to pick up the worms that drop out of the wood that I have been
chopping."

The Child and the Snow Birds

So she left him in the woods and went home. He staid and did his best to kill
the snow birds, but he did not succeed.
When he came home he looked disappointed and discouraged, but his sister told
him that he must not despair.

"You must try again to-morrow," said she. The next day she left him in the
woods again, and toward nightfall she heard his little footsteps on the snow,
outside the lodge, as he was coming home. When he came in he threw down a snow
bird that he had killed, and seemed very much pleased.
His sister cut the bird in two and used it, half one day and half the next,
to season the broth or porridge which she made for supper.
After a time the boy killed ten birds, and their skins, sewed together by his
sister, made him a little coat.
He was very much pleased with his coat, but one day having lain down in the
sun and gone to sleep in a place where the snow had been melted away and the
ground was dry, the sun singed his coat and made it shrink, so that when he woke
up it was too tight for him.
He was very angry with the sun for this, and he declared he would set a snare
for him and catch him, to prevent his doing such mischief any more. he asked his
sister to make him a cord.
After several trials she succeeded in making a cord that he though would do,
and so he set out one night a little after midnight and went through the woods
to a place where the sun rose. He made a slip noose in one end of his cord, and then set it slyly in the trees, in
the place where the sun was to come up.
He succeeded very well in his design. The sun, in coming up through the
trees, got caught in the noose, and his beams became so entangled in it that he
could not rise.
The animals in the forests were all very much frightened when they found that
it continued dark that day. They ran to and fro and made great inquiry, and at
last they found out what the difficulty was. The sun had been caught in a snare.

At first they did not know what to do. They soon concluded, however, that the
only remedy was for them to send some gnawing animals to gnaw off the noose. But
none dared to go for fear of being burnt to death by the sun.
At last, however, the animal now called a dormouse, which was then the
largest gnawing animal existing, was persuaded to go. He was selected because,
being large, he would be better able, they thought, to endure the heat. So he
went and gnawed off the noose and set the sun free; but he was so dreadfully
burnt in the operation that, when he returned, from being the largest it was
found that he had become the smallest animal of all. There was very little left
of him.

And that is the reason why the dormouse is now so small.
This story suggests another legend in which the incident of the sun being
caught in a trap occurs in a somewhat different form. The story is one which a
French Catholic missionary learned from an Indian tribe upon the banks of the
St. Lawrence, more than two hundred years ago. In respect to the state of
intellectual development to which it is adapted, it stands very nearly on a
level with the English nursery tale of Jack and the Beanstalk, which, indeed, in
some respects, it closely resembles.
Hunting in Heaven
There was once a man and woman traveling together in the woods, when suddenly
they were set upon by wild beasts. The man was seized and devoured by a bear.
The woman was also in the same manner eater up by another monstrous animal. But
their little child, who was just then born, the wild beasts left untouched.
A woman passing by a short time afterward saw a child lying alone in the
woods, and was very much astonished at the sight. She wondered where its parents
could be, but on looking all around and seeing nothing of them, she took the child and carried it home to her
lodge.
The boy lived, but he did not grow. He increased marvelously in strength, it
is true, but not in size; so that, although he remained to all appearance a
child, he became strong enough to root up great trees, and to perform other
marvelous exploits. His name was an Indian word sounding as much as possible
like Jackabeck.
The first thing that he undertook was to seek out and attack the monstrous
beasts which had devoured his father and mother. He found them and killed them
both, and he identified them as the real devourers of his parents by finding his
father's beard in the stomach of one, and his mother's hair in that of the
other.
In addition to his great strength he was possessed of a certain mysterious
power, through which whatever he blew upon was changed by some sort of magic,
just as he wished.
After a while he felt a desire to go to heaven to see what there was there.
So he began to climb a tall tree, and when he got to the top of it he blew upon
it, and that made it shoot out and grow up higher. He climbed up to the top
again and then blew as before, and so on continually.

He thus mounted higher and higher, until at last he ascended into heaven.
He found here a delightful country, with green fields and pretty trees and
flowers, and ever thing charming. After walking all about the place he returned
to the tree and began to descend it, intending to tell the story of what he had
seen to his sister -- for it seems he now had a sister -- and bring her up with
him to heaven, in order that they might live there for ever.
As he came down the tree he stopped occasionally by the way to build wigwams
in the branches, as places of rest for himself and sister in ascending.
When he had reached the ground and had related to his sister what he had
seen, she was at first very unwilling to go with him, being afraid to attempt to
climb such a tall tree. But she was at last persuaded to make the attempt, and
they set out together.
This sister and a little nephew whom she concluded to take with her in the
ascent, and they all three began to climb the tree. The sister and her little
nephew went first, and Jackabeck came on after them, in order to catch them if
they should chance to fall.
Thus they went on up the tree, and whenever they were tired of climbing they stopped to rest at the wigwams which Jackabeck
had made among the branches in coming down.
After they had arrived at the top, in order to prevent any other persons from
coming up after them, Jackabeck reached down and broke off the stem of the trees
as low as he could.
After admiring the beauties of the country for a time with his sister, and
congratulating each other on their safe and happy arrival in it, Jackabeck went
off into the woods to set traps, as he had been accustomed to do on the earth
below, in hopes to catch some animals.
Very early the next morning he went to visit his traps to see what he had
caught. As he drew near one of them he saw in it a great glowing ball of fire.
It was so bright and so hot that Jackabeck did not dare to go near it. So he ran
back to his sister to inform her of this prodigy.
"Sister," said he, "there is a big fire in one of my traps, so fierce and hot
that I do not dare to go near it."
"Ah! Jackabeck," said his sister, "you must have caught the sun. He was
wandering about undoubtedly in the night, and has fallen into one of your traps.
Go and let him out as quick as you can."

So Jackabeck went back, but he found the sun so hot and dazzling that he
could not get near enough to let him out of the trap. He was greatly at a loss
what to do, but presently on looking around him he found a little mouse, and he
blew upon him and made him so large and strong that he could go the the trap and
open it in some way so as to let the sun go free.
The story that follows, it is supposed, may have been intended to present to
the Indian belles the example of a species of mistake which is often exemplified
in tales written for young ladies in civilized life, namely, that of acting in a
spirit of proud and disdainful coquetry toward an honest lover, and so, as the
proverb expressed it, going further and faring worse. It is as follow:
The Story of Moowis
There lived a certain village an Indian girl who was distinguished for her
grace and beauty, and was the admiration of all the young hunter and warriors of the tribe. Indeed, she was quite a belle.
Among her admirers there was a very worthy and much respected young man, who
went to visit her one day, with the intention of asking her hand. I will call
him Ma-mon, that being a portion of his name. The belle, instead of received
kindly Ma-mon's well intended attempts to please her, and giving him a
respectful and proper answer, turned away from him in disdain, and dismissed him
with a peculiar gesture, which, according to the Indian customs, was expressive
of the utmost contempt. The young man went away very deeply wounded.
He was indeed so sensitive, and his mind was so much disturbed by this
insult, that he could not recover from the effects of it. He was the more deeply
and permanently affected by it from the fact that the insult was put upon him in
the presence of others, so that the affair was noised abroad throughout the
village, and became the common talk of the young men of the tribe.
At last the sense of shame and vexation so preyed upon him that he lost his
health and strength, and almost his reason. He would lie upon his mat in his
lodge all day long, silent, dejected, and with his eyes fixed on vacancy. He
would take little or no food. No efforts could rouse him from this condition. He felt abashed and dishonored even in the
presence of his relatives and best friends, and no persuasions could induce him
to rise.
At length the time arrived when the family to which he belonged were to take
down the lodge , in order to remove to another station; but still he could not
get up. So they took down the lodge from over his head, and left him there lying
on his couch in the open air.
It was early in the spring of the year, and the ground was covered with snow,
but the snow was hard, as is usual at that season, so that they party could
travel upon it, their feet making a crackling noise as they walked along over
the frozen surface. The young man remained on his couch until the last sound of
the departing footsteps died upon his ear, and then he arose.
The ground that the encampment had occupied was covered with remnants and
fragments of all kinds, which had been left there by the families which had
occupied it. There were bits of soiled cloth, worn and tattered garments,
draggled feathers, and old abandoned ornaments of all sorts, some lying on the
frozen ground, and some trampled into the snow.

At the sight of all this finery Ma-mon conceived a plan of revenge.
"She thinks more of the dress than the man," said he to himself, " and I will
make her a husband that will please her.'
So he began to collect the old garments together, and after putting them in
proper form he filled them with earth and snow, which he pressed firmly in, and
thus finally produced the figure of a man. This figure he decorated with old
beads, feathers, and other things which he found upon the ground, and which, by
some sort of magic, he redeemed from their damaged condition and restored to
their pristine beauty. The man, too, when he was finished, was endowed with the
power of life, and motion, though his body and limbs still consisted of nothing
but frozen mud and snow.
Ma-mon put a bow and a quiver of arrows in the image's hand, and then ordered
it to follow him. He gave it the name of moowis.
Ma-mon now went on with moowis to the new encampment of the tribe. When they
arrives there Moowis attracted great attention. So well formed a man and one
dressed so very elegantly had seldom been seen. No one was more pleased with him
than the belle. She fell in love with him at first sight, and invited him to her mother's lodge, where he was received with much honor.
Among other marks of attention they assigned the stranger a place very near
the fire. But Moowis was afraid to take this place for fear that he might be
melted by the warmth, and so, notwithstanding the urgency of their invitations,
he insisted on remaining near the door.
This only increased the bell's admiration for him, as she considered it a
proof of his great hardihood and power of endurance; and these are qualities
which, next to courage, the Indian damsels most highly prize in their lovers.
But we must not make the story too long. The belle accepted Moowis as her
lover, and they were married. Very soon after the ceremony was performed Moowis
said that he must go away for a time, for there was a journey that he must take.
His bride said that she would go with him. He attempted to discourage her, but
she was not willing to be left.
So he set out upon his journey, his bride, according to the Indian custom in
the case of man and wife, following him at a little distance. He went on at a
very rapid rate. She tried very hard to keep up with him, but she found it
extremely difficult to do so. She called to him incessantly to wait for her, but he paid no heed to her cries.
Soon, too, the sun came up and Moowis began to melt away. The feathers and
beads and other ornaments began, one after another, to drop off from him to the
ground, and, as they fell, they returned to their original soiled and tattered
condition. Still the bride pressed on, following her flying husband over rocks
and windfalls, and through all sorts of rough and marshy ground. She called
incessantly to him and looked for him everywhere, but there was nothing to be
seen along the path where he had gone but rags, bones, old worn-our skins,
broken beads, soiled feathers, and remnants of torn and tattered garments. The
bride wandered on past all these things, calling continually to her husband and
crying that she was lost, until at length she became perfectly bewildered and
wholly uncertain which way to go. She however continued to wander about in her
despair, and is wandering still, singing all the time a mournful song, in which
she calls continually to Moowis, saying that she is lost, and begging him to
come and save her.
Old Red Head
In ancient times there was a famous chieftain named Old Red Head, who was so violent and lawless in his life and character,
and was so great a robber and murderer, that he was feared by the whole country
around. he lived on an island in a like, and he had a boat with which he used to
communicate with the shore.
He was so much dreaded by the people of the country on account of his great
strength and ferocity, that even his name became a bugbear, and a great many
designs were formed and plans laid for killing him. But thus far none had
succeeded.
Not far from the lake where Old Red Head lived there was a family that
consisted of a man and his wife, and a boy about fifteen years old.
One evening, when the man had been out all day hunting, he came home to the
lodge, bringing a deer. He was very tired and very hungry. His wife began to
prepare the deer for supper, and while she was doing it she asked the boy to go
down by a path through the woods to the river and bring some water.
But it was dark and the boy said that he did not like to go. The father, when
he heard this, accused his son of cowardice, and said, in a sneering and
contemptuous manner:
"I don't think you will ever kill Old Red Head."

This taunt stung the boy to his inmost soul. He said nothing, but he felt
very deeply wounded. All that night he lay revolving in his mind what he would
do.
The next morning he asked his mother to make him a pair of moccasins from the
skin of the deer which his father had killed. While she was doing this he went
into the woods and made himself a bow and four arrows.
The next morning after this he rose before sunrise, and putting on his
moccasins and taking his bow and arrows in his hands, he went out and shot one
of his arrows into the air. It went up very high. He observed which way it
inclined as it ascended, and then walked off through the woods in that
direction, intending to go to the spot where it would come down.
He traveled on all day long, and at night he came to the arrow. He found that
it had fallen upon a deer and killed him. The boy cut off as much of the flesh
of the deer as he required, ate his supper from it, and then lay down and went
to sleep.
The next morning he rose early and shot another arrow into the air. He
followed this arrow, as he had the other, and found this one, too, at night in a
deer which it had killed. He made his supper from the flesh of this second deer, and then, being fatigued with his long
march, he lay down and went to sleep again.
He did the same the third day and the fourth day. His arrows were then all
expended. On the fifth day he wandered about without any food, and not knowing
what to do. At last he became exhausted with hunger and fatigue. He sank down
upon the ground, and thought that he should die.
While he was thus lying upon the ground in despair, he heard a strange sound
approaching him, and raising his eyes he saw a well beaten path leading from the
margin of some water to a cabin which was very near him, and which he had not
observed before, and up this path a strange looking old woman was coming,
thumping her stick upon the ground as she came. She wore a sort of cloak, which
was made of the scalps of women, and to the top of her staff a number of birds
were fastened by means of strings tied to their feet. These birds fluttered over
the old woman's head as she walked along, and continued singing all the time.
The woman went into her cabin and took off her cloak. As she took it off she
shook it, and as she did so sounds of loud and continued laughter came from the
scalps of which it was made. These sounds continued until she had put the cloak away.
The old woman then came out of the cabin and advanced to the place where the
boy was lying. She accosted him kindly, and raising him up, led him into her
cabin and gave him some food.
Encouraged by her kindness the boy told her his story. He gave her an account
of what had taken place in his father's lodge, of his father's cutting sarcasm,
and of his having left home on account of it.
She listened attentively, and when he had finished she told him that he must
not take what his father had said to him too much to heart.
"Be of good cheer,' said she. "You shall kill old Red Head, and I will show
you how to do it."
So she made the dress of a girl for him, and fashioned him a great many
beautiful ornaments. She put the dress upon him and also the ornaments. There
were feathers for his hair and bracelets for his arms, and a necklace of beads
and a girdle. In the girdle she place a blade of grass of a certain kind, which
was pretty broad and stiff, and sharp at the edges.
"Now," said the old woman when the boy was ready, "you look like a beautiful
girl.'

So she directed him which way to go, and told him that he must journey on by
that way until he came to the shore of Red Head's lake, opposite the island.
"There," said she, "you will find a great many young men, who will fall in
love with you , and want to marry you. But you must tell them that you are
determined not to marry anybody but Red Head himself, and that if he will not
come for you in his canoe, and take you to his island, you will go back again to
your home.
When this was made known to Red Head he determined to come to the shore for the girl. So he caused his boat to be
brought out. The frame of this boat was made of living rattlesnakes, and they,
by some sort of magic, were endowed with the power of knowing when anybody came
into the boat with any evil or treacherous designs against their master, and of
signifying it by hisses and contortions.
Accordingly, when the pretended girl embarked on board the boat, they began
all to hiss, and to write and twist about in the most horrible manner. But Red
Head was so captivated with the beauty of his prize that he would not heed their
warnings. He went on with the boy to his island.
There, after meeting with various adventures and several narrow escapes from
detection which cannot here be detailed, the boy succeeded in dissipating all
Red Head's suspicions, if he ever had any, and the marriage ceremony was
performed. A great concourse of people came to attend the wedding. Immediately
afterward, or as soon as the new married pair were alone, the boy took Old Red
Head's head in his lap, as he reclined on the ground by his side, and drawing
out the sharp-edged blade of grass from his girdle, he cut it off by a single
stroke.
He then made his escape, taking the head with him. He carried it first to the old woman's cabin to show it to her, and then
went with it home to his father's -- his heart filled with pride and exultation.

He was received with every mark of consideration and honor by his family and
tribe, and continued to enjoy great renown as long as he lived as the slayer of
Old Red Head.
How Algon Gained His Wife
Algon was a very brave and handsome young hunter. One day when he was roaming
over the plains in search of game he suddenly came to a well-worn circular track
in the grass, with no path leading to it from any quarter.
This seemed to him a strange sight. How could such a track be made without
people to make it? And how could people come to make it without leaving any
signs of a path, or even of footsteps, in the grass where they came?
While he was pondering on this mystery he heard a rushing sound in the air,
as of a great bird flying, and looking up he saw a large wicker basket
descending, with twelve beautiful maidens in it. He stepped back into the
thicket, where he could conceal himself from sight, and remained there watching.

The basket or car containing the twelve girls came gently descending toward
the ground, being let down by cords from above. As soon as it reached the ground
the girls leaped out, and all immediately went to the ring and began dancing
about it in a charming manner.
Algon watched them as they danced, and finally fixed his eyes and his heart
upon the youngest of them, who seemed to him to be the most beautiful of them
all. He came forth from his thicket intending to seize her, but as soon as the
maidens saw him they seemed exceedingly terrified. They all with one accord
sprang for the basket, and, climbing into it as nimbly as possible, they were
drawn up again into the sky and disappeared.
The next day Algon went again to the place where he had seen the ring, in
order to watch for the coming of the girls -- expecting to see them descend, as
on the preceding day, from the sky.
This time, however, instead of going in his own proper form, he changed
himself into an opossum, a very curious and artful animal which hides cunningly
among the branches of a tree. In this guise he took his place in a tree near the
ring. Before long he saw the basket coming down out of the sky. When it reached
the earth the girls descended from it and began to dance again, but before Algon had time to come down from his tree and go toward them the youngest
of the girls spied him and gave the alarm, and the whole bevy immediately sprang
to their basket, climbed into it as nimbly as they had done before, and went
drawn up into the sky again.
The next day Algon determined to go once more, but now he concluded to change
into a smaller animal than the opossum, in order the more easily to escape
observation. This time he resolved to be a mouse.
So when he reached the place where the ring was formed, he looked about in
the thickets near, and presently found a piece of the hollow root of a tree
lying upon the ground, with a nest of mice in it. He took up the piece of root,
nest, mice and all, and carried it out of the thicket to the ring, and there
laid it down upon the grass near the outside of the ring. Then he changed
himself into a mouse, and took his place with the others in the nest.
He had not been there long before he saw the basket coming down out of the
sky as before. The girls stepped out of it and came toward the ring. One of them
saw the fragment of the root upon the ground.
"Ah!" said she, "what is this? This was not here before."

So they all stopped and looked at the root, and then began to pull it to
pieces. At this the mice all came out of the nest, and ran about upon the
ground, The girls immediately began to kill them. At last they killed all but
Algon. He, in order to save himself, turned back into a man.
The girls, when they saw one of the mice expanding and assuming the form of a
man, screamed and fled. In the meantime Algon's transformation was complete, and
he sprang after them. He succeeded in seizing the youngest, his beloved, and in
holding her, notwithstanding her struggles, until the others had reached the
basket, and had gone off again into the sky.
Being thus made captive the girl soon concluded to resist Algon's love no
longer, but became his wife, and the wedded pair lived for a long time together
in peace and happiness.
A great many other narratives of this kind might be given, but these will be
sufficient. They are pretty fair specimens of the tales and traditions which are
related by parents to children around the wigwam fires, and so handed down from
generation to generation.

Chapter 9
Constitution and Character of the Indian Mind.
Adaptations Observed in the Forms of Animal Life
In stocking the earth with its living inhabitants the Creator has adapted the
form and the physical constitution of the animals of each several species to the
character of the locality which they are intended to inhabit, and to the mode of
life they are to lead. In other words, every being is endowed with powers and
qualities suited to the functions which he is designed to fulfill.
Thus the giraffe, being appointed to feed on the leaves of trees, is provided
with long legs and a long neck, in order to enable him to reach his food, and
the chamois, having to obtain his sustenance from grass growing in the clefts of
the rocks and on steep declivities, has hoofs fitted expressly to facilitate
climbing, and muscles to enable him to lift himself up to any shelf among the
rocks that he can reach, or to let himself drop down a descent where any animal
would be killed. Birds that are to search for their food along the margins of lakes and ponds are
furnished with long wading legs and near-seeing eyes; while those appointed to
find and devour the bodies of dead animals, wherever they may lie, over a wide
extent of country, have eyes endowed with a most astonishing extent of vision,
and wings of prodigious strength to sustain them in the longest flights, and to
carry them up to the loftiest pinnacles of the mountains.
Mental Adaptations
This adaptation of the powers and faculties of animals to the duties, so to
speak, which they are destined to perform in life, applies to their mental
qualities, as well as to those which are more purely corporeal. A lamb, being
intended to feed on grass and flowers, is gentle in spirit, and is furnished
with an instinct which leads him to save himself from danger by running away
from his foe. The tiger, on the other hand, is endowed with a degree of courage
and of combative ardor so great that we call it ferocity; and this simply
because he is to live by seizing and conquering a living and resisting prey. The
fox, who is to feed upon timid animals that have wings to fly away from him, is
made cunning, that he may be enabled to catch them off their guard. For him simple strength would not be
sufficient. So the dog, who is intended to gain his livelihood by the services
which he renders to man, is provided with a mental constitution which leads him
to attach himself to a human master, and to remain faithful to him in every
extremity; while other animals, taken from their native haunts and brought
artificially into this relation, are with difficulty retained, and on the first
favorable opportunity fly away into their native woods again.
Designs of Divine Providence in Respect to Man
Upon a principle somewhat similar to this the different races of men seem to
be endowed with different qualities, each being adapted, both in physical and
intellectual constitution, to the place it has to occupy in the history of the
species.
For some reason or other which we cannot fully understand, Divine Providence
has not seen fit to bring the family of man at once into the full possession of
all the attainments and enjoyments of which the species is capable, or to the
high social state for which their nature fits them. On the contrary, the system
which has been adopted for the human race, unlike that seen in operation in
respect to any race of animals not connected with man, is that of an exceedingly slow and gradual development. The different
regions of the earth have been stocked with different branches of the human
family, strikingly dissimilar to each other in their persons, in their physical
powers, and in their mental constitutions -- each, however, being exactly
adapted to the part which they are respectively called upon to perform in the
great drama.
The Great Divisions in the Human Family
Thus the races of Central and Southern Asia are endowed with very peculiar
physical and mental powers, differing essentially from those of the prevailing
race in Europe, which is called the Caucasian race, and both differing
essentially also from those of the African races. The differences which exist
would seem to be innate and permanent, so far as we can judge from the results
-- each particular branch being able apparently to attain only to a certain
degree of refinement and civilization, and these remaining unchanged, or almost
unchanged, for many centuries. The Chinese, the Malays, and the negroes of
Africa appear to have subsisted in substantially their present condition from a
very early age, while the Caucasian race has been constantly progressive, having
built up in succession a great number of independent empires. The Assyrians, the Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, and,
following them, the great European nations of modern times, have entirely
outstript in arts, in science, and in civilization all the other races of the
globe; although many of these other races have possessed, each in its own region
of the earth, equal facilities for advancement, and have held them for the same
length of time.
Constitutional Diversities
We must suppose, then, that there is a great and permanent difference in the
physical and intellectual constitution of the different races -- permanent at
least in this respect, that it cannot be changed by an human means in the course
of any moderate number of generations. Whether these differences have been
produced by external causes, such as climate and modes of life, or by some
hidden innate causes more or less connected with these, or whether they have
originated in some other way to us wholly inscrutable, is at present entirely
unknown. We must, at any rate, accept the difference actually existing as a
fact, and conform our reasonings and our actions to it -- always acknowledging,
however, that the inferiority of any race to ours, if we claim that such
inferiority exists, imposes upon us a special obligation to be just toward them, and to
protect them in the enjoyment of all their rights, instead of giving us any
authority to tyrannize over them or oppress them in any way. We may rightfully
recognize and act upon our superiority to them in the social arrangements which
we make, but we are bound in doing so to consider them as under our protection,
and to guard their rights and provide for their welfare and happiness
faithfully, honestly, and with feelings of sincere good will.
Mental and Physical Constitution of the American Aborigines
The American Aborigines have been generally considered by mankind as a stern,
taciturn, immovable, unfeeling, and yet shrewd and cunning people. Some
travelers, like the celebrated Catlin, among others, who spent a great deal of
time among the western tribes, maintain that the degree in which they possess
these qualities has been exaggerated. Catlin found the Indians at their own
homes, in the villages which they had built on the banks of the Missouri and
upon the western prairies, as jovial, as talkative, and as full of life and
animation as other men. But the prevailing testimony, especially in respect to
those tribes that dwelt on the Atlantic coast at the time of the first settlement of the country,
represents them as exceedingly grave and stolid in all their deportment, and
possessing very little sensibility of any kind. Their power to endure hunger,
cold, and fatigue was surprising. This powers was doubtless, in a great degree,
acquired by habit, and must of their apparent insensibility was due to a feeling
prevalent among them that it was weak and unmanly to complain. Still there
seemed to be something in their physical constitution which gave them a greater
power of endurance than belongs to the Caucasian race. They felt cold and
hunger, and the pain of wounds, much less, and could consequently endure much
more, with the same exercise of fortitude, than other men.
Indeed, we might have been almost certain that this would be so. The same
kind and watchful Providence which gives the eagle his astonishing extent of
vision, in order that he may have power to survey the vast field over which he
is to seek his food, and enables the polar bear to sleep in comfort on a floor
of ice where mercury would freeze, would surely not impart a delicate
sensibility to the organization of a man who was to live by seeking his food in
the winter in a howling forest, with a certainty of often passing days without sustenance, and nights without any covering but bushes and snow.
The Taciturnity of the Indians
The extreme taciturnity of the Indians was one of their most striking
characteristics. We shall explain it in different ways according as we suppose,
that the Indian was made to fit the circumstances in which he was to be placed,
or that he was made like other men, and that the circumstances changed him. On
the latter supposition he has learned to be silent, from the fact that silence
is so necessary for him while prowling through the woods in search of game, or
watching against an ambuscade on the part of an enemy.
But talkativeness is the result of a peculiar mental organization, leading to
a lively and rapid flow of ideas, ardent sensibilities, and a quick and ready
action of the nerves and muscles are connected with the organs of speech. All
this nice mechanism would be out of place, in a great measure, with these
children of the forest;; and, indeed, it would be worse than out of place, for
it might be, necessarily for aught we know, connected with a greater sensibility
to pain, which to the Indian would be a very serious evil.
We might suppose, it is true, that the inward

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mechanism was with him, at birth, the same in respect to these faculties as in
the Caucasian race, but that, on account of the mode of life which the Indian
leads, it remained undeveloped. This is, doubtless, to some extent true. But it
would seen that the Indian children manifest from their earliest infancy the
same low degree of sensibility, giving them the power of bearing without
inconvenience, or at least without pain, what would be intolerable to the
children of another race, which characterizes their fathers and mothers. The
children seldom cry. They remain patient, strapped upon their board, looking
quietly about, and content apparently with existence alone; while a white child
of the same age is endowed with powers of observation and with mental instincts
and propensities so sensitive and active that it craves the incessant occupation
of its faculties, and scarcely ever intermits his restless activity.
Where we find peculiarities of temperament thus showing themselves at the
earliest age, and continuing to mark the character and conduct under all
circumstances to the end of life, it would seem that we are entitled to conclude
that they are innate, and, in the individual at least, are not the result of
climate or of education, or of any other outward causes.

Cruelty
The American Indians, like all other savages, were extremely cruel in the
treatment of prisoners captured in war. They took great delight in torturing
them, and often burnt them alive. Whether any palliation for these enormities
can be derived from the fact that such inflictions produced a less exquisite
pain in sufferers of their race than they would have done in ours, we will not
undertake to say. At any rate, it is known that prisoners subjected to such
treatment bore their tortures with most astonishing fortitude. Sometimes,
indeed, such suffering was voluntarily incurred, under the impulse of some
exalted sentiment of generosity, or other strong emotion.
The Father Dying For His Son
An account is given of an Indian who belonged to a tribe that was involved in
some quarrel with a neighboring tribe, and one day when he came home from his
hunting he found his wife in a state of extreme anguish and terror from the fact
that a party of the enemy had come suddenly upon the wigwam during the absence
of the father, and had made a prisoner of the oldest son, and carried him away.

The father immediately bade his wife farewell, and putting himself upon the
trail of the hostile party he followed them with the utmost diligence. He knew
that the destiny of the poor prisoner was most assuredly to be tortured to death
by fire, and he was going to offer himself for this sacrifice, in order to
obtain the ransom of his child.
He came up with the party of the enemy just as they were making preparations
to enjoy their cruel revenge. He approached them with a signal which was
equivalent to a flag of truce in civilized warfare, and offered himself as a
substitute for his son. "My poor boy," said he, "is just entering upon life. Do
not cut him off so prematurely from the enjoyment of it. He is vigorous and
strong, too, and is the hope of his mother, and he will be, for many years, the
stay and support of the family. But I am old and infirm. My work will soon be
done, and I am of little value to my wife and children. But I am just as good to
be burned alive for your revenge as he."
This, or something equivalent to this, the old man said to his savage
enemies. They acknowledged the propriety of the proposal, and made the exchange.
They unbound the young man and gave him his liberty. The father sent him away,
charging him to go home and take care of his mother and of the children, and then gave himself up to be burnt to death by a
process protracted as long as possible, while his enemies feasted and danced
around the fire.
The Practice of Scalping
The practice which prevailed among all the native tribes of North America of
taking off the scalps of enemies slain in battle, and preserving them as
trophies of victory, has generally been considered a special token of the
barbarous cruelty of the Indian character. The practice, it is true, presents a
most shocking image to our imaginations, yet, when we reflect upon it, it does
not seem to denote any special and peculiar cruelty. It is barbarous, without
doubt, yet still perhaps not specially and peculiarly so.
Origin of the Practice
The practice arose very naturally from the custom that prevails universally
among all hunting savages, and indeed among all hunting men, whether savage or
civilized, of obtaining from the boy of the animal slain something to be
preserved as a trophy of the prowess of the hunter in killing him. A barbarous
hunter wears the trophies thus obtained upon his person. A civilized one hangs them up in his hall. That seems to be the chief difference between barbarism and
civilization in this respect.
The Indians made their dresses of the skins of animals that they had killed;
and the fiercer and more furious the beast that furnished the material, the more
distinguished and glorious was the attire.
There were many parts of the bodies of these animals that were used in this
way. Skins were made into quivers, moccasins, leggins and robes. Horns were used
in head-dresses; bones were worked into beads and ornaments of every kind; and
long hair, dyed of various colors, was formed into fringes to decorate the
borders of garments. There was a particular species of eagle called the
war-eagle, on account of his strength and fierceness, whose feathers were prized
above all others for purposes of dress and decoration.
From this practice of taking the skin, the horns, the hair, or the feathers
of animals slain in the chase as trophies to be used as articles of dress or
ornament, it is but a single step to that of preserving a portion of the long
hair of an enemy slain in battle for the same purpose; and when the man was dead
there was no special cruelty in taking a portion of the skin with the hair. Not
that we are to suppose that the Indians could have any feeling that would lead them to defer taking a scalp till after death from motives of
humanity, but only that in ordinary cases they would be compelled to do so. It
would, of course, be very seldom that a scalp could be taken from a victim while
he was alive.
Customs Connected with the Practice of Scalping
The portion of the skin which was taken from the head in scalping an enemy
was quite small, only a few inches in diameter. All that was essential was that
it should include the crown of the head -- that is, the central point from which
the hair separates. The hair itself, however, which grew from the other parts of
the head was usually cut off too, especially if it was long, and suitable to be
worked into fringes and other such ornaments.
A scalp, when taken from the head, was first stretched in a sort of hoop to
keep the skin distended while drying. This hoop was formed upon the end of a
long pole by bending the end round into a circle, first cutting away a portion
of the wood at the end to make it sufficiently flexible. The scalp was placed in
the center of this hoop, and fastened there by strings passing out in every
direction to the circumference -- the long hair hanging down the pole. The pole
served, of course, for a handle by which the trophy could be borne in a conspicuous and
triumphant manner.
There were certain ceremonies to be performed with the fresh scalps as soon
as the party taking them had reached home, by way of public recognition of them
as warlike trophies. These ceremonies consisted of feastings and rejoicings,
accompanied with songs and dances -- that is, if such wailing and unearthly
succession of sounds as they made could be called songs, or their horrid
contortions and gesticulation dances. When these ceremonies were completed the
scalps were considered as duly consecrated, and were thenceforth preserved with
great care in the wigwam, or worn upon the person, as badges of the highest
distinction and honor.
Treatment of Women
The Indians have been accused of treating their women as slaves, and there is
no doubt that the women were always held by them in a state of very complete and
absolute subordination to the men. They were employed all the time in arduous
labors, but this was a matter of necessity, for the continual toil of both men
and women was in most cases necessary for the maintenance of the family. The
woman had the house to put up and take down, the mats and clothing to make, fuel to bring for the fire, and the field
to till.
But all this probably made no more than her fair proportion of toil and
exposure, when we consider the sufferings and danger and fatigue which fell to
the lot of the husband in his hunting and fishing expeditions. The privations
which the men sometimes endured in their long tramps through the forests,
especially amid the snows and storms and intense cold which reigned in all the
northern forests for so large a portion of the year, were indescribably great,
especially since the indomitable pride of the hunter often presented his
returning home, however urgent his own personal necessities might be, without
having first obtained his game. Instances have been known of the Indians
wandering in the woods until they have become perfectly exhausted, and of their
then lying down and perishing hunger, rather than go home to a starving family,
without the means of supplying them with food.
Polygamy
Polygamy prevailed to some extent among the Indian tribes. Of course, since
the number of the sexes is everywhere so nearly equal, this practice can never
be carried to any very great extent in any human community, even if there were no natural instincts in the heart to war
against it. There was no law among the Indians restricting men to a single wife,
and prominent personages, such as great warriors and chieftains, often
accordingly possessed themselves of more than one. The motive which influenced
them, however, in these cases was not, as it would seem, a sensual one. but
rather a desire to extend their influence by connecting themselves with powerful
families, and to aggrandize themselves in the estimation of the community by
enlarging their domestic establishment. The practice, however, being in
violation of the natural instincts of man and the essential laws of his
constitution, led generally to domestic disquiet and suffering, and sometimes to
catastrophes which would have comported well with the strength of the sentiment
of jealousy in the heart of the most civilized woman.
Intellectual Superiority of the Caucasian Race
We are surprised sometimes, it is true, at the ingenuity which the Indians
exhibited in some of their inventions, and it is, indeed, in some sense
wonderful that with materials and implements so imperfect they could manufacture
such efficient weapons and carry out such serious contrivances. But, after all, when we come to compare a bark canoe, perfect as it is in its
way, with one of the ocean steam-ships of the Caucasian race, or the best made
stone-tipped arrow ever shot at a moose or a buffalo, with the double barreled
rifled carbines carrying an explosive bullet, with which a French hunter lies in
wait for an African lion, we learn the immense distance which separates the
powers and attainments of the two races from each other. We must remember, too,
that the contrivances which we find Indians now using, and which we think so
ingenious, are not the inventions of the individuals that we see using them, not
even of the generation now upon the stage. They are the results of the combined
ingenuity of a hundred generations! It is somewhat the same, it is true, with
our inventions; but with us, not only are the results infinitely greater, but
the work is still going on with a steadiness and rapidity of progress almost
inconceivable. There is doubtless more real invention exercised, and a greater
number of new and ingenious contrivances originated and perfected every single
year, in any one of ten thousand machine shops and manufactories now in
operation in America, than the Indians can produce as the result of the
accumulated efforts of all the generations

of their race, from their earliest arrival upon these shores to the present
time.
Two Great Means of Civilization
But what ever we may think of the intellectual inferiority of the Indian
race, the slowness of their progress in the arts of life was not due wholly to
that cause. There are two great essential elements without which civilization
can never make any rapid progress, or attain to any great height, in any nation.
These two elements are iron, and the art of writing. With the possession of iron
to make implements and tools, one man, it is found, can produce the food of ten,
thus leaving the other four of the half of the community that we may suppose to
be able-bodied, to be employed in other occupations. it is in consequence of
this release of so large a portion of the community from the labor of procuring
food, through the aid afforded by iron, that arts and inventions arise. Whereas,
without iron, it requires five men to produce the food of ten, and the other
five consist of the very young, the very old, the sick and the inform. So that,
without iron, nearly the whole available strength of the community is required
for the production of food, the surplus that remains being barely sufficient to
provide, in the simplest possible way, for the demands of nature in respect to shelter and clothing.
Again, with the art of writing the progress made in each separate generation
is recorded, and thus the goal attained in one age becomes the starting point in
the next. It follows from this art a race that possesses the art of writing may
be decisively progressive, but one which is without that art can only be so in a
very limited degree. In this latter case the greatest part of what any one
genius discovers or learns dies with him, and the next genius that arises must
commence the work anew. Thus the nation, even if it is always rising, is always
sinking back again to where it was before. Nothing but the art of writing, to
provide each generation with the means of recording what it has discovered, will
enable it to keep its hold and go on continually ascending.
The Indians accordingly, being without this art, made no advance whatever. If
they did not even retrograde, they lived from generation to generation the same.

Chapter 10
The Coming of the Europeans
The Coming of the Europeans
The coming of the Europeans to this country brought new races not only of
men, but also of plants and animals, into contact and connection with those
previously existing here. The result was that, in the course of two centuries,
immense changes were produced in the occupancy of the country, new and higher
forms that were introduced from the old world superseding and displacing the
inferior and more imperfect ones which before had possession of the new.
Changes in Respect to Animal Life
Some of the more remarkable of these changes are well known. Others equally
interesting, in a philosophical point of view, but leading to results less
conspicuous, have not attracted so much attention. One very striking case is
that of the horse. Certain animals of this species escaped from the Spaniards in Mexico and Peru -- very likely a small number at first. They found
the region around them producing plenty of grass, and the climate mild and
summer-like through the whole year. Of course, they required no care on the part
of man, and began soon to multiply with great rapidity; and now, after the lapse
of three hundred years, herds of them cover the prairies and plains of the
middle and southern regions of America in countless millions, and, of course,
other animals, that before occupied the same grounds and fed upon the same
herbage, have been displaced by them and have disappeared.
It is somewhat so with the cow. Wild cattle, originally introduced into the
country by colonizing companies from Spain, now throng the South American plains
in such numbers that they are hunted and slain by hundreds of thousands every
year for the sake of the hides. And still the numbers are increasing.
The bovine races of Europe, however, have not been able to spread in a wild
state northwardly into the prairies of North America, on account perhaps of the
fact that the buffalo, a superior animal of the same kind -- superior in respect
to strength and ability to maintain his ground -- has possession already. Nor
were they or the horses able, unaided by man, to occupy the northern regions on the Atlantic; for
although these regions were well adapted to produce their peculiar food, the
winters were too long and cold for such animals to live through them without
artificial aid. With this aid, however, they can do it, and thus, under the
fostering charge of man, the green meadows and hill-sides, extending over many
thousands of square miles between the lakes and the sea, have been covered with
flocks of sheep and herds of horses and cows, while the bear and the moose that
formerly had possession of them have passed away. A few lingering specimens only
remain to roam in solitude within the narrow limits left to them, and to wonder
where their companions can have gone.
Changes in Respect to Plants
Changes corresponding to these have taken place on a vast scale in the
vegetable kingdom. Multitudes of plants that were introduced into America by the
European colonists, either accidentally or by design, have since that time
become very widely extended here, and have extirpated or displaced, to a
corresponding degree, the original occupants of the soil. These changes have
taken place sometimes with and sometimes without the aid of man. One of the most striking examples of the former class is that of the
grasses and the cereal grains, such as wheat and rye, which now cover millions
and millions of acres through all the central regions of the continent, where
formerly brakes and bullrushes and wild wood-flowers, barren and useless, had
complete possession.
It is well that this should be so. Such changes are in fulfillment of the
beneficent designs formed by the author of nature for the gradual improvement of
the condition of the earth, and the advancement of it, in respect to its
occupants, from lower to higher and nobler forms of life.
Changes in the Races of Men
A change exactly analogous to these has taken place in respect to man. The
aboriginal inhabitants of the country were of races formed with constitutions,
both physical and mental, adapting them to obtain their livelihood by fishing
and the chase -- modes of life by means of which North America might sustain
perhaps twenty or thirty millions of inhabitants. The Caucasian race, which was
introduced from Europe, is endowed with constitutions adapting them to gain
their livelihood by agriculture, commerce, and the manufacturing arts, a mode of
life by which the same territory is capable of supporting many hundred millions -- we know not how many. Under
these circumstances it was an inevitable, and as much in fulfillment of the
designs of divine Providence, that the old races should be supplanted by the
new, as that the horse and the cow should displace the alligator and the elk ,
and brakes and bulrushes yield their native ground to corn.
And such has been the fact. It has been estimated that at the time America
was discovered the number of Indians dwelling within the limits of the United
States was about sixteen millions. Of the descendants of these sixteen millions
only about two millions now remain.
The Displacement of One Race By Another Not Necessarily Attended With Suffering
Nor are we to suppose that such a change as this, by which a lower race is
supplanted by a higher one, necessarily implies any violence or wrong on the
part of the former against the latter, or any special suffering. It is the race
and not the individuals that the extirpating process acts upon. That is to say,
the effect is produced, not by the destruction of individuals already existing,
but by a diminution in the numbers born to take the places of those ceasing to
exist by natural causes.

If the various aboriginal races had always been, and still continued to be,
treated with the strictest justice and the most sincere and cordial good will,
they would have none the less surely fulfilled the universal destiny of the
lower to give way before the higher forms, in the great onward march of
organization and life; but the change would have come slowly, quietly, and
without suffering. Indeed, the very beings subject to it, with the exception of
a few far-seeing minds that might discover it by a special and laborious study
of the past and of the future, would have been unconscious that it was going on.

Difficulties That Opposed the Amalgamation of the Two Races
It might at first be supposed that when a superior and an inferior race were
brought thus together upon the same territory, a process of amalgamation would
have set in, by which, in the end, they would gradually be melted into one; but
there are very deep-seated causes operating in all such cases to prevent such a
union. In the first place, the mental and physical constitution of the Indian
fits him specially for wandering as a hunter through the woods, and gaining his
subsistence by the chase, and for no other mode of life.

These qualities are innate and permanent. At least they are beyond the reach of
any means of change that can be brought into operation in the course of any
moderate number of generations. The whole history of the Indian tribes and of
the almost fruitless attempts which have been made to civilize them, and induce
them to live like white men, proves this quite conclusively. Missions were
established among the Indians of New England for the purpose of instructing them
in the arts of European life and in the truths of Christianity, and though for a
time very remarkable results were produced, no radical or lasting change was
usually effected. As soon as the external support to this new state of things,
and in a certain sense unnatural, was withdrawn, everything slowly but
irresistibly sank back into its former condition, and the hereditary instincts
and propensities of the race returned in all their pristine vigor.
In the same manner the experiment has several times been made of educating
Indian Young men in the New England colleges, but the pupils thus taught have,
almost without exception, when their prescribed course was finished, and they
were left at liberty, as they arrived at manhood, to follow the impulses and
instincts of their own hearts, very soon turned away from the arts and
refinements of life to which they had thus been ushered, and have gone back into the woods,
and relapsed hopelessly into their former condition.
Fixedness of the Indian Tastes and Habits
There are remnants of many of the ancient tribes existing at the present day
in various parts of our country, but they live by themselves, a marked and
separate race, with nothing changed except the external circumstances by which
they are surrounded. They live in huts still, as their ancestors did three
hundred years ago. it is only the covering that is changed -- the birch bark,
which has failed, being replaced with canvass, or with slabs obtained from the
white men. They sit upon the ground around their wigwam fire, just as of old,
and are occupied in the same species of employment, only that they make baskets
instead of canoes, and bows and arrows to sell as toys, or to be used by
children in shooting at coppers for a prize, instead of for the service of
hunters in the chase. Even their garments retain in a great measure the forms of
the old national costume, though made now of blankets and calico, instead of the
skins of beasts, and adorned with glass beads instead of wampum. they come with
the wares which they make to sell into the white man's kitchen, where they are kindly entertained, and where they have every
opportunity to observe the conveniences and the comforts which civilization
affords, but no kindling desire is awakened in their minds to imitate or share
them. Silent, patient, impassible, they witness the advance of

Essentially Unchanged

the mighty wave which sweeps on so irresistibly over and around them, apparently
without any regret for the past, or any emotion, either of hope or fear, in
respect to the future. And thus in the

heart of a country changing and advancing more rapidly than any other, they
alone remain, from generation to generation, wholly unchanged.
There are descendants from Indians residing in certain portions of the
Southern States that have adopted a settled mode of life, and have attained to a
considerable degree of refinement and civilizations, but in general, even among
these, the degree in which they manifest the capacities of the Caucasian race
corresponds very nearly to the proportion of Caucasian blood that flows in their
veins.
Present Condition of the Western Tribes
In the interior and western portions of the continent are vast tracts of land
which remain almost entirely in possession of Indians; and although the United
States government exercises a general jurisdiction over the whole country, still
there are extended territories reserved for the exclusive occupancy of the
native tribes. Within these reservations the tribes live in their own way,
pursuing such modes of life and maintaining such systems of government as they
themselves choose. This state of things has continued for more than a century,
without any essential change taking place in the Indian habits or character. A
very considerable trade has sprung up, it is true, between the natives and the whites, by which,
in exchange for skins and furs which they obtain by trapping and the chase, the
former procure a great many commodities that are produced by the arts