Chapter II: Part 2

The earliest visitors of the New World, on seeing among the Indians neither priests, temples, idols, nor sacrifices, represented them as a people wholly destitute of religious opinions. Closer inquiry, however, showed that a belief in the spiritual world, however imperfect, had a commanding influence over almost all their actions. Their creed includes even some lofty and pure conceptions. Under the title of the Great Spirit, the Master of Life, the Maker of Heaven and Earth, they distinctly recognise a supreme ruler of the universe, and an arbiter of their destiny. A party of them, when informed by the missionaries of the existence of a being of infinite power, who had created the heavens and the earth, with one consent exclaimed, “Atahocan! Atahocan!” that being the name of their principal deity. According to Long, the Indians among whom he resided ascribe every event, propitious or unfortunate, to the favour or anger of the Master of Life. They address him for their daily subsistence; they believe him to convey to them presence of mind in battle; and amid tortures, they thank him for inspiring them with courage. Yet, though this one elevated and just conception is deeply graven on their minds, it is combined with others which show all the imperfection of unassisted reason in attempting to think rightly on this great subject. It may even be observed, that the term, rendered into our language, “Great Spirit” does not really convey the idea of an immaterial nature. It imports with them merely some being possessed of lofty and mysterious powers, and in this sense is applied to men, and even to animals. The brute creation, which occupies a prominent place in all their ideas, is often viewed by them as invested, to a great extent, with supernatural powers—an extreme absurdity, which, however, they share with the civilized creeds of Egypt and India.

When the missionaries, on their first arrival, attempted to form an idea of the Indian mythology, it appeared to them extremely complicated, more especially because those who attempted to explain it had no fixed opinions. Each man differed from his neighbour, and at another time from himself; and when the discrepancies were pointed out, no attempt was made to reconcile them. The southern tribes, who had a more settled faith, are described by Adair as intoxicated with spiritual pride, and denouncing even their European allies as “the accursed people.” The native Canadian, on the contrary, is said to have been so little tenacious, that he would at any time renounce all his theological errors for a pipe of tobacco, though, as soon as it was smoked, he immediately relapsed. An idea was found prevalent respecting a certain mystical animal called Meson, or Messessagen, who, when the earth was buried in water, had drawn it up and restored it. Others spoke of a contest between the hare, the fox, the beaver, and the seal, for the empire of the world. Among the principal nations of Canada, the hare is thought to have attained a decided preeminence, and hence the Great Spirit and the Great Hare are sometimes used as synonymous terms. What should have raised this creature to such distinction seems rather unaccountable, unless it were that its extreme swiftness might appear something supernatural. Among the Ottawas alone the heavenly bodies become an object of veneration: the sun appears to rank as their supreme deity.

To dive into the abyss of futurity has always been a favourite object of superstition. It has been attempted by various means, but the Indian seeks it chiefly through his dreams, which always bear with him a sacred character. Before engaging in any high undertaking, especially in hunting or war, the dreams of the principal chiefs are carefully watched, and studiously examined; and according to the interpretation their conduct is guided. A whole nation has been set in motion by the sleeping fancies of a single man. Sometimes a person imagines in his sleep that he has been presented with an article of value by another, who then cannot, without impropriety, leave the omen unfulfilled. When Sir William Johnson, during the American war, was negotiating an alliance with a friendly tribe, the chief confidentially disclosed, that, during his slumbers, he had been favoured with a vision of Sir William bestowing upon him the rich laced coat which formed his full dress. The fulfilment of this revelation was very inconvenient; yet, on being assured that it positively occurred, the English commander found it advisable to resign his uniform. Soon after, however, he unfolded to the Indian a dream with which he had himself been favoured, and in which the former was seen presenting him with a large tract of fertile land, most commodiously situated. The native ruler admitted that, since the vision had been vouchsafed, it must be realized, yet earnestly proposed to cease this mutual dreaming, which he found had turned much to his own disadvantage.

The manitou is an object of peculiar veneration; and the fixing upon this guardian power is not only the most important event in the history of a youth, but even constitutes his initiation into active life. As a preliminary, his face is painted black, and he undergoes a severe fast, which is, if possible, prolonged for eight days. This is preparatory to the dream in which he is to behold the idol destined ever after to afford him aid and protection. In this state of excited expectation, and while every nocturnal vision is carefully watched, there seldom fails to occur to his mind something which, as it makes a deep impression, is pronounced his manitou. Most commonly it is a trifling and even fantastic article; the head, beak, or claw of a bird, the hoof of a cow, or even a piece of wood. However, having undergone a thorough perspiration in one of their vapour-baths, he is laid on his back, and a picture of it is drawn upon his breast by needles of fish-bone dipt in vermilion. A good specimen of the original being produced, it is carefully treasured up; and to it he applies in every emergency, hoping that it will inspire his dreams, and secure to him every kind of good fortune. When, however, notwithstanding every means of propitiating its favour, misfortunes befall him, the manitou is considered as having exposed itself to just and serious reproach. He begins with remonstrances, representing all that has been done for it, the disgrace it incurs by not protecting its votary, and finally, the danger that in case of repeated neglect, it may be discarded for another. Nor is this considered merely as an empty threat; for if the manitou is judged incorrigible, it is thrown away, and by means of a fresh course of fasting, dreaming, sweating, and painting, another is installed, from whom better success may be hoped.

The absence of temples, worship, sacrifices, and all the observances to which superstition prompts the untutored mind, is a remarkable circumstance, and, as we have already remarked, led the early visitors to believe that the Indians were strangers to all religious ideas; yet the missionaries found room to suspect that some of their great feasts, in which every thing presented must be eaten, bore an idolatrous character, and were held in honour of the Great Hare. The Ottawas, whose mythological system seems to have been the most complicated, were wont to keep a regular festival to celebrate the beneficence of the sun; on which occasion, the luminary was told that this service was in return for the good hunting he had procured for his people, and as an encouragement to persevere in his friendly cares. They were also observed to erect an idol in the middle of their town, and sacrifice to it; but such ceremonies were by no means general. On first witnessing christian worship, the only idea suggested by it was that of their asking some temporal good, which was either granted or refused. The missionaries mention two Hurons, who arrived from the woods soon after the congregation had assembled. Standing without, they began to speculate what it was the white men were asking, and then whether they were getting it. As the service continued beyond expectation, it was concluded they were _not_ getting it; and as the devotional duties still proceeded, they admired the perseverance with which this rejected suit was urged. At length, when the vesper hymn began, one of the savages observed to the other—“Listen to them now in despair, crying with all their might.”

The grand doctrine of a life beyond the grave, was, among all the tribes of America, most deeply cherished, and most sincerely believed. They had even formed a distinct idea of the region whither they hoped to be transported, and of the new and happier mode of existence, free from those wars, tortures, and cruelties, which throw so dark a shade over their lot upon earth; yet their conceptions on this subject were by no means either exalted or spiritualized. They expected simply a prolongation of their present life, and enjoyments under more favourable circumstances, and with the same objects, furnishing greater choice and abundance. In that brighter land the sun ever shines unclouded, the forests abound with deer, the lakes and rivers with fish—benefits which are farther enhanced in their imagination by a faithful wife and dutiful children. They do not reach it however, till after a journey of several months, and encountering various obstacles—a broad river, a chain of lofty mountains, and the attack of a furious dog. This favoured country lies far in the west, at the remotest boundary of the earth, which is supposed to terminate in a steep precipice, with the ocean rolling beneath. Sometimes, in the too eager pursuit of game, the spirits fall over, and are converted into fishes. The local position of their paradise appears connected with certain obscure intimations received from their wandering neighbours of the Mississippi, the Rocky Mountains, and the distant shores of the Pacific. This system of belief labours under a great defect, inasmuch as it scarcely connects felicity in the future world with virtuous conduct in the present. The one is held to be simply a continuation of the other; and under this impression, the arms, ornaments, and every thing that had contributed to the welfare of the deceased, are interred along with him. This supposed assurance of a future life, so conformable to their gross habits and conceptions, was found by the missionaries a serious obstacle, when they attempted to allure them by the hope of a destiny, purer and higher, indeed, but less accordant with their untutored conceptions. Upon being told that, in the promised world, they would neither hunt, eat, drink, nor marry a wife, many of them declared that, far from endeavouring to reach such an abode, they would consider their arrival there as the greatest calamity. Mention is made of a Huron girl, whom one of the christian ministers was endeavouring to instruct, and whose first question was, what she would find to eat? The answer being “nothing,” she then asked what she would see? and being informed that she would see the Maker of heaven and earth, she expressed herself much at a loss what she could have to say to him. Many not only reject this destiny for themselves, but were indignant at the efforts made to decoy their children after death into so dreary and comfortless a region.

Another sentiment, congenial with that now described, is most deeply rooted in the mind of the Indians—this is reverence for the dead; with which Chateaubriand, though, perhaps, somewhat hastily, considers them more deeply imbued than any other people. During life they are by no means lavish of their expressions of tenderness; but on the approach of the hour of final separation, it is displayed with extraordinary force. When any member of a family becomes seriously ill, all the resources of magic and medicine are exhausted in order to procure his recovery. When the fatal moment arrives, all the kindred burst into loud lamentations, which continue till some person, possessing the requisite authority, desires them to cease. These expressions of grief, however, are renewed for a considerable time, at sunrise and sunset. After three days the funeral takes place, when all the provisions which the family can procure are expended in a feast, to which the neighbours are generally invited; and, although on all solemn occasions it is required that every thing should be eaten, the relations do not partake. These last cut off their hair, cover their heads, paint their faces of a black colour, and continue long to deny themselves every species of amusement. The deceased is then interred with his arms and ornaments, his face painted, and his person attired in the richest robes which they can furnish. It was the opinion of one of the early missionaries, that the chief object of the Hurons, in their traffic with the French, was to procure materials for honouring their dead; and as a proof of this, many of them have been seen shivering, half naked, in the cold, while their hut contained rich robes to be wrapped round them after their decease. The body is placed in the tomb in an upright posture; and skins are carefully spread round it, so that no part may touch the earth. This, however, is by no means the final ceremony, being followed by another far more solemn and singular. Every eighth, tenth, or twelfth year, according to the custom of the different nations, is celebrated the festival of the dead; and, till then, the souls are supposed to hover round their former tenement, and not to depart for their final abode in the west. On this occasion the people march in procession to the places of interment, open the tombs, and, on beholding the mortal remains of their friends, continue sometime fixed in mournful silence. The women then break out into loud cries, and the party begin to collect the bones, removing every remnant of flesh; the remains are then wrapped in fresh and valuable robes, and conveyed, amid continued lamentation, to the family cabin. A feast is then given, followed during several days by dances, games, and prize combats, to which strangers often repair from a great distance. This mode of celebration certainly accords very ill with the sad occasion; yet the Greek and Roman obsequies were solemnized in a similar manner—nay, in many parts of Scotland, till very recently, they were accompanied by festival, and often by revelry. The relics are then carried to the council-house of the nation, where they are hung for exhibition along the walls, with fresh presents destined to be interred along with them. Sometimes they are even displayed from village to village. At length, being deposited in a pit, previously dug in the earth, and lined with the richest furs, they are finally entombed. Tears and lamentations are again lavished, and during a few days, food is brought to the place. The bones of their fathers are considered by the Indians the strongest ties to their native soil; and when calamity forces them to quit it, these mouldering fragments are, if possible, conveyed along with them.

Under the head of religious rites we may include medicine, which is almost entirely within the domain of superstition. The great warmth of affection which, amid their apparent apathy, the natives cherish for each other, urges them, when their friends are seriously ill, to seek with the utmost eagerness for a remedy; an order of men has thus arisen, entirely different from the rest of society, uniting the characters of priests, physicians, sorcerers, and sages. Nor are they quite strangers to some branches of the healing art: in external hurts or wounds, the cause of which is obvious, they apply various simples of considerable power, chiefly drawn from the vegetable world. Chateaubriand enumerates the ginseng of the Chinese, the sassafras, the three-leaved hedisaron, and a tall shrub called bellis, with decoctions from which they cure wounds and ulcers in a surprising manner. With sharp-pointed bones they scarify inflamed or rheumatic parts; and shells of gourds, filled with combustible matters, serve instead of cupping-glasses. They learned the art of bleeding from the French, but employed it sometimes rashly and fatally, by opening the vein in the forehead. They now understand it better; but their favourite specific in all internal complaints is the vapour-bath. To procure this, a small hut or shed is framed of bark, or branches of trees, covered with skins, and made completely tight on every side, leaving only a small hole through which the patient is admitted. By throwing red hot stones into a pot of water, it is made to boil, and thus emit a warm steam, which, filling the hut, throws the patient into a most profuse perspiration. When he is completely bathed in it, he rushes out, even should it be in the depth of winter, and throws himself into the nearest pond or river; and this exercise, which we should be apt to think sufficient to produce death, is proved by their example, as well as that of the Russians, to be safe and salutary. As a very large proportion of their maladies arise from cold and obstructed perspiration, this remedy is by no means ill chosen. They attach to it, however, a supernatural influence, calling it the sorcerer’s bath, and employ it not only in the cure of diseases, but in opening their minds whenever they are to hold a council on great affairs, or to engage in any important undertaking.

All cases of internal malady, or of obscure origin, are ascribed, without hesitation, to the secret agency of malignant powers, or spirits. The physician, therefore, must then invest himself with his mystic character, and direct all his efforts against these invisible enemies. His proceedings are various, and prompted, seemingly, by a mixture of delusion and imposture. On his first arrival, he begins to sing and dance round the patient, invoking his god with loud cries. Then, pretending to search out the seat of the enchantment, he feels his body all over, till cries seem to indicate the bewitched spot. He then rushes upon it like a madman, or an enraged dog, tears it with his teeth, and often pretends to show a small bone, or other object, which he has extracted, and in which the evil power had been lodged. His disciples, next day, renew the process, and the whole family join in the chorus; so that, setting aside the disease, a frame of iron would appear necessary to withstand the remedies. Another contrivance is, to surround the cabin with men of straw, and wooden masks of the most frightful shapes, in hopes of scaring away the mysterious tormentor. Sometimes a painted image is formed, which the doctor pierces with an arrow, pretending that he has thereby vanquished the evil spirit. On other occasions, he professes to discover a mysterious desire, which exists in the patient unknown to himself, for some particular object; and this, however distant or difficult of attainment, the poor family strain all their efforts to procure. It is alleged, that when the malady appears hopeless, he fixes upon something completely beyond reach, the want of which is then represented as the cause of death. The deep faith reposed in these preposterous remedies caused to the missionaries much difficulty, even with their most intelligent converts. When a mother found one of her children dangerously ill, her pagan neighbours came round, and assured her that if she would allow it to be blown upon, and danced, and howled round in the genuine Indian manner, there would be no doubt of a speedy recovery. They exhorted her to take it into the woods, where the black-robes, as they called the Christian priests, would not be able to find her. The latter could not fully undeceive their disciples, because in that less enlightened age, they themselves were impressed with the notion that the magicians communicated with, and derived aid from the prince of darkness; all they could do, therefore, was to exhort them resolutely to sacrifice any benefit that might be derived from so unholy a source. This, however, was a hard duty; and they record with pride the example of a Huron wife, who, though much attached to her husband, and apparently convinced that he could be cured by this impious process, chose rather to lose him. In other respects, the missionaries suffered from the superstitious creed of the natives, who, even when unconverted, believed them to possess supernatural powers, which it was suspected they sometimes employed to introduce the epidemic diseases with which the country was from time to time afflicted. They exclaimed, it was not the demons that made so many die—it was prayer, images, and baptism; and when a severe pestilential disorder followed the murder of a Frenchman, who fell by their hands, they imagined that the priests were thus avenging the death of their countryman.

We have still to describe the most prominent object of the Indian’s passions and pursuits—his warfare. It is that which presents him under the darkest aspect, effacing almost all his fine qualities, and assimilating his nature to that of fiends. While the most cordial union reigns between the members of each tribe, they have neighbours whom they regard with the deepest enmity, and for whose extermination they continually thirst. The intense excitement which war affords, and the glory which rewards its achievements, probably give the primary impulse; but after hostilities have begun, the feeling which keeps them alive is revenge. Every Indian who falls into the power of an enemy, and suffers the dreadful fate to which the vanquished are doomed, must have his ghost appeased by a victim from that hostile race. Thus every contest generates another, and a more deeply embittered one. Nor are they strangers to those more refined motives which urge civilized nations to take arms—the extension of their boundaries, an object pursued with ardent zeal, and the power of their tribe, which last they seek to promote by incorporating in its ranks the defeated bands of their antagonists. Personal dislike and the love of distinction often impel individuals to make inroads into a hostile territory, even contrary to the general wish; but when war is to be waged by the whole nation, more enlarged views, connected with its interest and aggrandizement, guide the decision. To most savages, however, long-continued peace becomes irksome and unpopular; and the prudence of the aged can with difficulty restrain the fire of the young, who thirst for adventure.

As soon as the determination has been formed, the war-chief, to whom the voice of the nation assigns the supremacy, enters on a course of solemn preparation. This consists not, however, in providing arms or supplies for the campaign; for these are comprised in the personal resources of each individual: he devotes himself to observances which are meant to propitiate or learn the will of the Great Spirit, who, when considered as presiding over the destinies of war, is named Areskoui. He begins by marching three times round his winter-house, spreading the great bloody flag, variegated with deep tints of black. As soon as the young warriors see this signal of death, they crowd around, listening to the oration by which he summons them to the field. “Comrades!” he exclaims, “the blood of our countrymen is yet unavenged; their bones lie uncovered; their spirits cry to us from the tomb. Youths, arise! anoint your hair, paint your faces, let your songs resound through the forest, and console the dead with the assurance that they shall be avenged. Youths! follow me, while I march through the war-path to surprise our enemies, to eat their flesh, drink their blood, and tear them limb from limb! We shall return triumphant; or, should we fall, this belt will record our valour!” The wampum, that grand symbol of Indian policy, is then thrown on the ground. Many desire to lift it, but this privilege is reserved for some chief of high reputation, judged worthy to fill the post of second in command. The leader now commences his series of mystic observances. He is painted all over black, and enters on a strict fast, never eating, or even sitting down, till after sunset. From time to time he drinks a decoction of consecrated herbs, with a view of giving vivacity to his dreams, which are carefully noted, and submitted to the deliberation of the sages and old men. When a warlike spirit is in the ascendant, it is understood that either their tenor or their interpretation betokens success. The powerful influence of the vapour-bath is also employed. After these solemn preliminaries, a copious application of warm water removes the deep black coating, and he is painted afresh in bright and varied colours, among which red predominates. A huge fire is kindled, whereon is placed the great war cauldron, into which every one present throws something; and if any allies, invited by a belt of wampum and bloody hatchet to devour the flesh and drink the blood of the enemy, have accepted the summons, they send some ingredients to be also cast in. The chief then announces the enterprise by singing a war-song, never sounded but on such occasions; and his example is followed by all the warriors, who join in the military dance, recounting their former exploits, and dilating on those they hope to achieve. They now proceed to arm, suspending the bow and quiver, or more frequently the musket, from the shoulder, the hatchet or tomahawk from the hand, while the scalping-knife is stuck in the girdle. A portion of parched corn, or sagamity, prepared for the purpose, is received from the women, who frequently bear it to a considerable distance. But the most important operation is the collection of the manitous, or guardian spirits, to be placed in a common box, which, like the Hebrew ark, is looked up to as a protecting power.

The females, during these preparations, have been busily negotiating for a supply of captives, on whom to wreak their vengeance, and appease the shades of their fallen kindred; sometimes, also, with the more merciful view of supplying their places. Tenderer feelings arise as the moment approaches when the warriors must depart—perhaps to return no more! and, it may be, to endure the same dreadful fate which they are imprecating on others. The leader having made a short harangue, commences the march, singing his war-song, while the others follow, at intervals sounding the war-whoop. The women accompany them some distance, and when they must separate, they exchange endearing names, and express the most ardent wishes for a triumphant return; while each party receives and gives some object which has been long worn by the other, as a memorial of this tender parting.

As long as the warriors continue in their own country, they straggle in small parties for the convenience of hunting, still holding communication by shouts, in which they imitate the cries of certain birds and beasts. When arrived at the frontier, they all unite and hold another great festival, followed by solemn dreaming, the tenor of which is carefully examined. If found inauspicious, room is still left to return; and those whose courage shrinks, are, on such occasions, supplied with an apology for relinquishing the undertaking; but such an issue is rare. On entering the hostile territory, deep silence is enjoined; the chase is discontinued; they crawl on all fours; step on the trunks of fallen trees, or through swamps. Sometimes they fasten on their feet the hoof of the buffalo, or the paw of the bear, and run in an irregular track like those animals. Equally earnest and skilful are they in tracing through the woods the haunts of the enemy. The slightest indications, such as would wholly escape the notice of a European, enables them to thread their course through the vast depths of the western forests. They boast of being able to discern the impression of steps even on the yielding grass, and of knowing, by inspection, the nation or tribe by whom it has been made. Various and ingenious artifices are employed to entrap their foe. From the recesses of the wood they send forth the cries of the animals which are most eagerly sought by the rival hunters. Their grand object, however, is to surprise a village, and if possible the principal one belonging to the hated tribe. Thither all their steps tend, as they steal like silent ghosts through the lonely forest. On approaching it, they cast hasty glances from the tops of trees or of hillocks, and then retreat into the thickest covert; but in total disregard of the most disastrous experience, the obvious precaution of placing nightly sentinels has never been adopted. Even when aware of danger, they content themselves with exploring the vicinity two or three miles around, when, if nothing is discovered, they go to sleep without dread.

This supineness is much fostered by a delusive confidence in the manitous enclosed in the holy ark. If during the day the assailants have reached unperceived a covert spot in the neighbourhood of the devoted village, they expect the satisfaction of finding its inhabitants buried in the deepest slumber in the course of the ensuing night. They keep close watch till immediately before day-break, when silence and security are usually the most complete; then, flat on their faces, and carefully suppressing the slightest sound, they creep slowly towards the scene of action. Having reached it undiscovered, the chief by a shrill cry gives the signal, which is instantly followed by a discharge of arrows or musketry; after which they rush in with the war-club and the tomahawk. The air echoes with the sound of the death-whoop, and of arms. The savage aspect of the combatants; their faces painted black and red, and some streaming with blood, and their frightful yells, make them appear like demons risen from the world beneath. The victims, too late aroused, spring from their fatal slumber, and foreseeing the dreadful fate which awaits them if taken prisoners, make almost superhuman struggles for deliverance. The contest rages with all the fury of revenge and despair, but it is usually short. The unhappy wretches, surprised and bewildered, can seldom rally or resist; they seek safety by fleeing into the depths of forests or marshes, whither they are hotly pursued. The main study of the victorious party is to take the fugitives alive, in order to subject them to the horrible punishments which will be presently described. Should this be impracticable, the tomahawk or the hatchet dispatches them on the spot; and the scalp is then carried off as a trophy. Placing a foot on the neck of his fallen enemy, and twisting a hand in the hair, the warrior draws out a long sharp-pointed knife, specially formed for this operation; then cutting a circle round the crown of the head, by a few skilful scoops he detaches the hair and skin, lodges the whole in his bag, and returns in triumph.

At the close of the expedition, the warriors repair to their village, and, even in approaching, announce its result by various signals well understood among their families. According to the most approved custom, the evil tidings are thus communicated. A herald advances before the troop, and for every kinsman who has fallen sounds the death-whoop,—a shrill lengthened note ending in an elevated key. An interval is then allowed, during which the burst of grief excited by these tidings may be in some degree exhausted. Then rises the loud and inspiring sound of the war-whoop, which by its successive repetitions expresses the number of captives brought home as the fruits of the victory. The barbarous joy thus kindled banishes for the moment all trace of lamentation. The women and children form two rows, through which the prisoner is led, having his face painted, and crowned with flowers as for a festival. Then begins the darkest of all the scenes by which savage life is deformed. A series of studied and elaborate torture commences, in which ingenuity is tasked to the utmost to inflict the intensest agony that can be endured without actually extinguishing life. The first caress, as the French call it, is to tear the nails from the fingers, the flesh is then pierced to the bone, and fire in various forms applied to the extremities. Blows are also given to the last degree that nature can sustain; and sometimes an amusement is found in tossing, for a long time, the victim like a ball from one to the other. Other contrivances, peculiar to infuriated savages, are sometimes resorted to. One missionary, for example, being made to lie on his back, had his stomach covered with sagamity, on which hungry dogs were set to feed, which tore his flesh with their teeth. The unhappy wretch is occasionally paraded from village to village, kept for weeks in this state of suffering, fed on the coarsest refuse, and allowed only a neglected corner of the cabin to sleep in. At length a grand council is held to decide his fate, or in other words, to determine whether all the furies of vengeance shall be let loose upon him, and his life be taken away amid the most frightful tortures, or whether he shall be saluted as one of themselves, and treated as a brother. The decision is influenced by various considerations. If he be a youth, or new to the field, a lenient course may probably be adopted; but a veteran warrior, who has been the terror of the nation, and on whose skin is painted a record of triumphs, has to dread a sterner sentence. The women have much influence, according as they either demand revenge for the loss of a husband or brother, or solicit that the captive may supply the vacancy. The Iroquois, though the fiercest of these barbarians, being the deepest politicians, were always anxious to augment their numbers; hence, though they prolonged and heightened the preliminary torture, they usually ended it by adoption. This was carried so far that they are described as having at length become less a single nation than an aggregate of all the surrounding tribes. The stranger being received into one of the families as a husband, brother, or son, is treated with the utmost tenderness; and she, who perhaps immediately before exhausted all her ingenuity in tormenting him, now nurses the wounds she has made, and loads him with caresses. He becomes completely one of the clan, and goes with them to war, even against his former countrymen; and so far is the point of honour carried, that to return into their ranks would be branded as an act of baseness. There are, however, many occasions in which the more inhuman resolution is taken, and a fearful display is then made of the darkest passions that can agitate the human breast. The captive is informed of his fate by being invested with moccasins of black bear-skin, and having placed over his head a flaming torch, the sure indication of his doom. Before the fatal scene begins, however, he is allowed a short interval to sing his death song, which he performs in a triumphant tone. He proclaims the joy with which he goes to the land of souls, where he will meet his brave ancestors who taught him the great lesson to fight and to suffer. He recounts his warlike exploits, particularly those performed against the kindred of his tormentors; and if there was any one of them whom he vanquished and caused to expire amid tortures, he loudly proclaims it. He declares his inextinguishable desire to eat their flesh, and to drink their blood to the last drop. This scene is considered, even when compared with the field of battle, as the great theatre of Indian glory. When two prisoners were about to be tortured by the French at Quebec, a charitable hand privately supplied a weapon with which one of them killed himself; but the other derided his effeminacy, and proudly prepared himself for his fiery trial. In this direful work the women take the lead, and seem transformed into raging furies. She, to glut whose vengeance the doom has been specially pronounced, invokes the spirit of her husband, her brother, or her son, who has fallen in battle or died amid torture, bidding him come now and be appeased, a feast is prepared for him, a warrior is to be thrown into the great cauldron; his blood will be poured out; his flesh torn from the bones: let the injured spirit then cease to complain. A game begins between the torturers and the tortured—one to inflict the most intense suffering, the other to bear it with proud insensibility. That there may be some appearance of open contest, he is not chained, but merely tied to a post, and a certain range allowed, within which, while the brand, the hatchet, and every engine of torture are applied, he can do something to repel his assailants, and even attack in his turn. He struggles fiercely in the unequal strife, and while his frame is consuming in agony, still defies his tormentors, and outbraves death itself. Some even deride the feeble efforts of their executioners, boasting how much more effectively they themselves had applied torture to individuals of their tribe. Yet there are instances where the murderers at last triumph; the sufferer exclaims, “Fire is strong, and too powerful;” he even utters loud shrieks, which are responded to by exulting shouts of savage laughter. Some few have been known by almost incredible efforts to break loose, and by rapid flight effect their escape. The general result, however, is death, after protracted suffering; when the scalp, if still entire, is taken off, and deposited among the military trophies.

It has been made a question whether the Indian can be justly charged with cannibalism. It is certain that all the terms by which they designate their inhuman mode of putting a prisoner to death bear reference to this horrid practice. The expressions are,—to throw him into the cauldron—to devour him—to eat soup made of his flesh. It has hence been plausibly inferred that this enormity really prevailed in early times, but was changed, we can scarcely say mitigated, into the present system of torture. Yet, as every action is described by them in terms highly figurative, those now quoted may have been used as expressing most fully the complete gratification of their revenge. Of this charge they cannot now be either condemned or wholly acquitted. In the excited fury of their passions, portions of the flesh are often seized, roasted, and eaten, and draughts taken of the blood. To eat an enemy’s heart is considered a peculiar enjoyment. Long mentions a gentleman who came upon a party who were busy broiling a human heart, when he with difficulty prevailed upon them to desist. There is little hesitation amongst them, in periods of scarcity, to relieve hunger with the flesh of their captives; and during one war, this fate is said to have befallen many French soldiers who fell into the hands of the Five Nations. Colonel Schuyler told Colden, that having entered the cabin of a chief who had some rich soup before him, he was invited to partake. Being hungry and tired, he readily agreed; till the ladle, being put into the great cauldron, brought up a human hand, the sight of which put an immediate end to his appetite and meal. Although war may be considered as the ordinary state of those tribes, yet, after having for a considerable time experienced its destructive effects, there usually arises a desire for an interval of tranquillity. To procure this, a regular form is observed. The nation which resolves to make the overture, despatches several individuals, usually of some note, as ambassadors, with at least one orator. They bear before them the calumet of peace, which renders their character sacred, and secures them from violence. They carry also a certain number of belts of wampum, with which are respectively connected the several motives and terms of the proposed treaty. The orator having obtained an audience of the chiefs on the other side, expounds the belts, dancing and singing in unison, and by actions expressing the peaceful purpose of his mission. If the opposite party be favourably inclined, they accept the offered symbols, and next day present others of a similar import. He then smokes in the calumet, and the contract is sealed by burying a hatchet; if there be any allies, one is deposited for each. This agreement is often accompanied with professions, at the moment perhaps sincere, of maintaining the sun always in the heavens, and never again digging up the hatchet; but the turbulence of individuals, and the satiety of long peace, to which the whole nation is subject, usually rekindle hostilities at no distant period.

Some notice may, finally, be expected of Indian amusements; the most favourite of which are smoking, music, and dancing. These, however, are viewed in a much higher light than mere pastime; being ranked among the most serious occupations, and esteemed quite indispensable in the conduct of every important affair. Without them a council cannot be held, a negotiation carried on, peace or war proclaimed, nor any public or private contract entered into; for not one of these transactions is accounted valid, till it has been smoked over, and sung and danced to. The calumet is the grand instrument of their policy. No important affair can be taken into consideration without the pipe in their mouths; and hence, to call an assembly of the chiefs is said to be lighting the council fire. This tube accompanies and is the guardian of every embassy, and to smoke together is the chief cement of national union.

Music and dancing, accompanying each other, are equally indispensable to every solemn celebration. Yet the instruments and performance are alike simple and rude; for their song, though often continued for a long period, consists merely in the perpetual reiteration of a few wild melancholy notes. The words are usually of the minstrel’s own composition, and record his exploits in war or hunting, and sometimes the praises of the animals which he has killed in the chase. The song is accompanied by performance on the drum, and on the chichikoue or pipe. The former is merely a hollowed piece of wood covered with skin; the latter is formed of a thick cane, upwards of two feet in length, with eight or nine holes, and a mouthpiece not unlike that of a common whistle. Those who know how to stop the holes, and bring out a sound, consider themselves performers; yet they cannot play upon it even those simple airs which they execute with the voice, though they will often continue for hours drawing out wild irregular notes.

The dances of the Indians, even those at common festivals, are on an extensive scale; requiring to a complete performance forty or fifty persons, who execute their evolutions by following each other round a great fire kindled in the centre. Their movements, monotonous but violent, consist in stamping furiously on the ground, and often brandishing their arms in a manner compared by an able writer to a baker converting flour into dough. They keep good time; but the music is so exceedingly simple, that this implies little merit. They conclude with a long shout or howl, which echoes frightfully through the woods. The dances in celebration of particular events are of a more varied character, and often form a very expressive pantomime. The war-dance is the most favourite and frequent. In this extraordinary performance, a complete image is given of the terrible reality; the war-whoop is sounded with the most frightful yells, the tomahawk is wildly brandished, and the enemy are surprised, seized, and scalped, or carried off for torture. The calumet-dance, which celebrates peace between nations, and the marriage-dance, which represents domestic life, are much more pleasing. Some mention is made of a mystic-dance, carried on by the jugglers or doctors, with strange superstitious ceremonies, and in which a supernatural personage, termed by some the devil, rises and performs; but it does not seem to have been witnessed by any European, and is said to be now in a great measure disused.

There are, moreover, games to which the Indians are fondly attached, which, though they be only ranked under the head of amusement, are yet conducted in the same serious manner as their other transactions. Their great parties are said to be collected by supernatural authority, communicated by the jugglers, and they are preceded, like their wars and hunts, by a course of fasting, dreaming, and other means of propitiating fortune. The favourite game is that of the bone, in which small pieces of that substance, resembling dice, and painted of different colours, are thrown in the air, and according to the manner in which they fall the game is decided. Only two persons can play: but a numerous party, and sometimes whole villages, embrace one side or the other, and look on with intense interest. At each throw, especially if it be decisive, tremendous shouts are raised; the players and spectators equally resemble persons possessed; the air rings with invocations to the bones, and to the manitous. Their eagerness sometimes leads to quarreling and even fighting, which on no other occasion ever disturb the interior of these societies. To such a pitch are they occasionally worked up, that they stake successively all they possess, and even their personal liberty; but this description must apply only to the more southern nations, as slavery was unknown among the Canadian Indians.

A temporary interval of wild licence, of emancipation from all the restraints of dignity and decorum, seems to afford an enjoyment highly prized in all rude societies. Corresponding with the saturnalia and bacchanals of antiquity, the Americans have their festival of dreams, which during fifteen days enlivens the inaction of the coldest season. Laying aside all their usual order and gravity, they run about, frightfully disguised, and committing every imaginable extravagance. He who meets another, demands an explanation of his visions, and if not satisfied, imposes some fantastic penalty. He throws upon him cold water, hot ashes, or filth; sometimes rushing into his cabin he breaks and destroys the furniture. Although everything appears wild and unpremeditated, it is alleged that opportunities are often taken to give vent to old and secret resentments. The period having elapsed, a feast is given, order is restored, and the damages done are carefully repaired.

On the first settlement of Europeans in Canada, that territory was chiefly divided between three great nations,—the Algonquins, the Hurons, and the Iroquois or Five Nations. The first held an extensive domain along the northern bank of the St. Lawrence, about a hundred leagues above Trois-Rivières. Shortly before, they had been the most powerful of all these tribes, and considered even in some degree as masters over this part of America. They are described also as having the mildest aspect, and most polished manners of any. They subsisted entirely by hunting, and looked with proud disdain on their neighbours who consented to bestow on the soil even the smallest cultivation. The Hurons were a numerous people, whose very extensive territory reached from the Algonquin frontier to the borders of the great lake bearing their name. They were also more industrious, and derived an abundant subsistence from the fine territory of Upper Canada. But they were at the same time more effeminate and voluptuous, and had less of the proud independence of savage life, having chiefs hereditary in the female line, to whom they paid considerable deference.

The Iroquois, destined to act the most conspicuous part among all the native tribes, occupied a long range of territory on the southern border of the St. Lawrence, from Lake Champlain to the western extremity of Lake Ontario. They were thus beyond the limits of what is now considered Canada; yet, as all their transactions were completely connected with the interests of that country, we cannot at present avoid considering them as belonging to it.

This people were divided into five cantons, each of which was considered as an independant nation. They were united, however, by the closest alliance; are never found waging war with each other, nor did they often fail to combine their forces when attacked by neighbouring tribes. The following are the names given to them by English and French authors.

ENGLISH. FRENCH.

Mohawks. Aguiers.
Oneidas. Onneyouths.
Onondagoes. Onontagues.
Cayugas. Anniegué.
Senekas. Tsonnouthouans.

We add to these general remarks on the habits and character of the natives of North America, a few anecdotes which were collected by a distinguished soldier in Canada, and which we copy literally from his MS. The first is a legend of the Falls of Shawenagam, river St. Maurice.

Shortly after the Hurons established themselves in the part of the Lower Province to the N. E. of the St. Maurice, that rapid river was fixed as the boundary between this nation and the Algonquins. In one of the many fierce rencontres that took place between these two warlike tribes, the following circumstance occurred, too descriptive of the Indian character to pass unnoticed. A party of Hurons had been hunting on the shores of the St. Maurice, and were returning in loaded canoes down the stream, when, on approaching the head of these falls, they suddenly heard a signal, and on looking up descried a large party of Algonquins half hidden among the thick foliage in the tops of trees. The Hurons had advanced too far to recede; to pull back against the stream was totally impossible, and to land at the head of the falls was only throwing themselves into the hands of the host of enemies waiting to bear their scalps in triumph to their nation. The mind, like the eye, of an Indian is quick and determined. The chieftain in the leading canoe cast one hurried glance on his enemies, and setting up a yell of defiance, steered his frail bark to the edge of the foaming precipice: in this resolute action he was followed by his people, and the whole party were hurried down the dreadful abyss mingled in one mass of wreck and destruction. Scarcely a vestige of these brave men was washed ashore to gratify the vengeance of the disappointed Algonquins.

_Tête-de-Bules._—The Indians frequenting the Fur Post of Wemontashingur in the St. Maurice, latitude 47° 55' 58" N. are not numerous, and generally speaking are a very inoffensive people, although some actions of a horrid nature, committed by individuals of the tribe, have come to our knowledge. They are ignorant and superstitious, influenced in all their actions by dreams, which they imagine are sent to them for a good purpose by the Great Spirit: under this cloak they oftentimes commit great barbarities. They are likewise much addicted to ardent spirits.

That cannibalism is occasionally practised to a great extent among the aborigines inhabiting these dreary regions, the many accounts which have reached our ears would lead us to believe; but as these things are generally exaggerated, we know not what degree of credence they deserve. Among the anecdotes of this nature related to us, are the following, which, if true, show to what a degraded state of mind these miserable people are reduced. An Indian _Montagnier_, whose name is Mocontagan, or Crooked Knife, in a drunken fit confessed having in the course of his life killed and eaten several Indians and Metifs, or half-breeds. When sober, he attempted to deny it; but upon being closely pressed he acknowledged the fact, but said starvation drove him to kill and eat the first man, and that he slew and ate the others from a decided preference of that to any other kind of flesh; and finished his statement by declaring that he would kill any Metif, and eat him, that he should meet alone. He is much feared by the other Indians, who are inclined to believe him to be an evil spirit. He is described as a powerful man, six feet high, and strong built, and possessing what is termed “a bad countenance.” Upon one occasion, about six years since, at Wemontashingur, the Algonquins took courage and rose upon him: he fled for protection to Mr. Hyslop, the resident clerk of the Post, who with Mr. Le Blanc, now at Rat River, advised him to leave the place, as they could not be answerable for his life. This man is still living, much dreaded by the Indians frequenting the St. Maurice.

Another instance was related to us by Mr. Vassal, belonging to the King’s Post company. One day, during the winter, as he was travelling among the mountains, he saw an Indian stretched on the snow. Vassal approached him, and demanded what was the matter. The Indian replied he was sick, doubtless imagining Vassal would be alarmed by the thoughts of fever, and quit the place without entering the cabin: but Vassal, anxious to collect furs, attempted to go in, the Indian pulled him back by the leg; Vassal made another attempt, and succeeded in entering. A fire was burning, and a large kettle was on it, which, to his horror, he found contained a portion of a very young child. The savage acknowledged that it was his grandson, and that hunger had driven him to eat it. This, Vassal says, could not be possible, as there were remains of musk-rats about the place.