Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 1 (of 3)

J >> James Athearn Jones >> Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 1 (of 3)

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(2) _The mulberry bark._--p. 187.

The Dress of the Indian women.--The dress of the Indian females is
regulated, of course, by the nature of the climate. The Southern
Indians, by which I mean those occupying the tract of country which is
now parcelled out into the States of Louisiana, Florida, Missouri,
Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia, at the period of its first settlement
by the whites, wore cloaks of the bark of the mulberry tree, or of the
feathers of swans, turkeys, &c. The bark they procured from the young
mulberry shoots that came up from the roots of the trees which had been
cut down. After it was dried in the sun, they beat it to make all the
woody part fall off; and then gave the threads that remained a handsome
beating; after which, they bleached them by exposing them to the dew.
When they were well whitened, they spun them about the coarseness of
pack-thread, and wove them in the following manner: two stakes were set
in the ground about a yard and a half asunder; having stretched a cord
from one to the other, they fastened their threads of bark, double, to
this cord, and then interlaced them in a curious manner into a cloak of
about a yard square, with a wrought border round the edges. Such is
nearly the description given by Du Pratz in his history of Louisiana.

(3) _Willow cage_.--p. 189.

Indian children, instead of being placed in cradles, are suspended from
the boughs of trees beyond the reach of wild animals, in baskets woven
of twigs of the willow, when they can be easily procured: the motion,
which is a kind of circular swing, is far more pleasant than that of the
cradle in use among civilized nations.

(4) _Moon alive_.--p. 189.

The astronomical knowledge of the Indians is very small, and they
entertain singular ideas respecting the heavenly, bodies. When the sun
sets they imagine it goes under water. When the moon does not shine,
they suppose she it dead; and some call the three last days before the
new moon, the _naked days_. Her first appearance after her last quarter
is hailed with great joy. If either sun or moon is eclipsed, they say
the sun or moon is in a swoon. I have mentioned before their opinion of
the cause of shooting-stars. Adair, who was acquainted only with the
Florida Indians, says that when it thundered and blew sharp for a
considerable time, they believed that the beloved or holy people were at
war above the clouds; and they believed that the war was hot or
moderate, in proportion to the noise or violence of the storm. Of all
the writers who have ever written on the Indians, Adair, with the usual
exception of La Hontan, is the worst. He wrote with a preconceived
determination to make them a portion, or "the remnant," of the ten
tribes of Israel, to whom they bear about the same resemblance that an
Englishman bears to an Otaheitean.

(5) _Mortals go in clay._--p. 192.

The Indian mode of worship is wild and singular in the extreme. Nutall,
a judicious and scientific traveller, thus describes the solemnity:

"This morning, about day-break, the Indians, who had encamped around us,
broke out into their usual lamentations and complaints to the Great
Spirit. Their mourning was truly pathetic, and uttered in a peculiar
tone. The commencing tone was exceeding loud, and gradually fell off
into a low, long continued, and almost monotonous bass; to this tone of
lamentation was modulated the subject of their distress or petition.
Those who had experienced any recent distress, or misfortune previously
blackened their faces with coal, or besmeared them with
ashes."--_Nutall_, p. 190.

I will quote one more extract from a favourite author for the benefit
of those who may wish to view the Indian as a worshipper of the Eternal
Being whom they are early taught to worship. "From the age of about five
years," says Long, "to that of ten or twelve, custom obliges the boy to
ascend to a hill-top, or other elevated position, fasting, that he may
cry aloud to the Wahconda. At the proper season his mother reminds him
that 'the ice is breaking up in the river, the ducks and geese are
migrating, and it is time for you to prepare to go in clay.' He then
rubs his person over with a whitish clay, and is sent off to the
hill-top at sunrise, previously instructed by a warrior what to say, and
how to demean himself in the presence of the Master of Life. From this
elevation he cries out to the great Wahconda, humming a melancholy tune,
and calling on him to have pity on him, and make him a great hunter,
horse-stealer, and warrior. This is repeated once or twice a week,
during the months of March and April."--_Long's First Expedition, vol._.
i. p. 240.

DISCOVERY OF THE UPPER WORLD.

A TRADITION OF THE MINNATAREES.

The Minnatarees, and all the other Indians who are of the stock of the
grandfather of nations, were once not of this upper air, but dwelt in
the bowels of the earth. The Good Spirit, when he made them, no doubt
meant, at a proper time, to put them in the enjoyment of all the good
things which he had prepared for them upon the earth, but he ordered
that their first stage of existence should be within it, as the infant
is formed, and takes its first growth in the womb of its natural mother.
They all dwelt under ground, like moles, in one great cavern, which
covered the whole island; when they emerged, it was in different places,
but generally near where they now inhabit. At that time, few of the
Indian tribes wore the human form; some had the figures or semblances of
beasts. The Paukunnawkuts were rabbits, some of the Delawares were
ground-hogs, others tortoises, and the Tuscaroras and a great many
others, were rattlesnakes. The Sioux were the hissing-snake(1); but the
Minatarees were always men. Their part of the great cavern was situated
far towards the Mountains of Snow.

The great cavern in which the Indians dwelt was indeed a dark and dismal
region. In the country of the Minnatarees it was lighted up only by the
rays of the sun which strayed through the fissures of the rock, and the
crevices in the roof of the cavern, while in that of the Mengwe it was
dark and sunless. The life of the Indians was a life of misery compared
with that they now enjoy, and it was endured only because they were
ignorant of a fairer or richer world, or a better or happier state of
being. Clothes they had none; they lived and died naked as they came
into the world. Their food was mice, and snakes, and worms, and moles,
with now and then a bat, and the roots of trees, which crept downward
from the regions of the upper air till they reached the subterranean
abodes of the poor benighted Indian. They ate sand, it is true, and fed
upon a dirt which glittered like the sun, but which was tasteless, and
contained no nutriment, and they grew poor upon it, and early sickened
and died. A miserably poor and weak race they were, and the Great Spirit
was kindest, when he took them from their dismal dwellings to the happy
mansions in the green vales and quiet lakes which lie hid in the
mountains. And, so well convinced were the Indians that the exchange
would be for the better, that they celebrated the death of a man with
great rejoicing, but wept and howled loud and long when a child was
born. And thus they dwelt, in the caverns which lie beneath the surface
of the earth, unknowing of the beautiful and glorious world over their
heads, till the Good Spirit sent agents for their deliverance.

There were among the Minnatarees two boys, who, from the hour of their
birth, showed superior wisdom, sagacity, and cunning. Even while they
were children, they were wiser than their fathers and mothers. They
asked their parents whence the light which streamed through the fissures
of the rock and played along the sides of the cavern came, and whence
and from what descended the roots of the great vine. Their father said
he could not tell; and their mother only laughed at the question, which
appeared to her very foolish. They asked the priest; neither could he
tell, but said he supposed the light came from the eyes of some great
wolf. The boys told him he was a fool. They asked the king tortoise, who
sulkily drew his head into his shell, and made no answer. But, when they
asked the chief rattlesnake, he answered that he knew, and would tell
them all about it if they would promise to make peace with his tribe,
and on no account ever to kill one of his descendants. The boys
promised, and the chief rattlesnake then told them that there was a
world above them, composed of ore more shining than that they had tossed
in boyish play in each other's eyes--a beautiful world, peopled by
creatures in the shape of beasts, having a pure atmosphere and a soft
sky, sweet fruits and mellow water, well-stocked hunting-grounds and
well-filled ponds. He told them to ascend by the roots, which were those
of a great grape-vine. A while after the boys were missing. Another
while they had not returned; nor did they come back until the
Minnatarees had celebrated the feast of rejoicing for their death(2),
and the lying priest had, as he falsely said, in a vision seen them
inhabitants of the Land of Spirits.

One day, the Indians were surprised by the return of the boys. They came
back singing and dancing, and were grown so much, and looked so
different from what they did when they left the cavern, that their
father and mother scarcely knew them. They were sleek and fat; and when
they walked it was with so strong a step that the hollow space rung with
the sound of their feet. Their bodies were covered with something which
the Minnatarees had never seen before, but which they since know was
feathers and the skins of animals. They had blankets wrapt around them
of the skins of racoons and beavers. Each of them had at his back a
bundle of beautiful ripe grapes, and of the flesh of a great animal,
which they had been taught to kill by people looking much like the
Minnatarees, only handsomer and stronger--people who lived by hunting,
and delighted in shedding the blood of each other, who painted their
bodies with strange figures, and loved to drink a water which made them
crazy and boisterous.

On first emerging from the caverns, they came, they said, into a world
where all was light and beauty. It was directly over that part of the
cavern where our tribe dwelt. They saw a great round ball of fire, which
gave light and heat to the earth, and whose beams it was which had shot
down through the fissures of the rock, partially illumining the cavern.
The earth above them they had found covered with green, and scented with
sweet-smelling flowers. Here and there were beautiful groves of trees,
in whose shady branches birds of soft notes and varied and lovely
plumage were singing all the day long. Its waters, which flowed cool and
clear, were peopled by sportive fishes, and by many kinds of fowls,
whose motions in their element were beautiful to the eye; and whose
meat, when cooked, was exceedingly sweet to the taste. They saw a
beautiful river, gliding rapidly through banks, shaded by lofty trees;
its smooth current wafting the Indian brave to distant expeditions of
war and the chase. Here were vast herds of wild animals, called by the
inhabitants bisons, whose flesh they had found very good and juicy, and
which animals were killed with arrows and sharp spears. The eyes of the
boys glistened like coals of fire, and became of double size, while they
described the beauties and wonders of the upper earth.

The Indians were very much delighted with the boys' story. They tasted
of the meat, and the grapes, and liked them so well, that they resolved
to leave their dull residence under ground, for the charms of the upper
air. All the inhabitants of the cavern agreed to leave it for the
newly-discovered hunting-grounds, except the ground-hog, the badger, and
the mole, who said as their maker had placed them there, there they
would live, and there they would die. The rabbit said he would live
sometimes below and sometimes above, and the rattlesnake, and the
tortoise, promised to spend the winter in the caverns, which they always
do.

When the Indians had determined to leave their habitations under ground,
they agreed to do it at different points, that they might sooner be on
the surface. The Minnatarees began, men, women, and children, to clamber
up the vine. One half of them had already reached the surface of the
earth, when a dire mishap involved the remainder in a still more
desolate captivity within its bowels. There was among the Minnatarees a
very big and fat old woman, who was heavier than any six of her nation.
Nothing would do but she must go up before certain of her neighbours.
Away she clambered, but her weight was so great, that the vine broke
with it; and the opening, to which it afforded the sole means of
ascending, closed upon her and the rest of the nation. Other tribes
fared better: in particular the beasts. The tortoise, who always took
the lead, because he was descended from the Great Tortoise who bears the
world on his back, and can live both on the land and in the water, very
easily crept out, but the Monseys or Wolves, who dwelt under Lake
Onondaga, did not emerge so easily. After trying to reach the upper air
for a long time in vain, one of their number, a cunning old wolf,
discovered a hole through which he crept out. He soon caught a deer,
which he carried down to his tribe, who found it so sweet that they
redoubled their exertions to reach a spot where such good things were to
be had, and fortunately soon reached it in company with the Turkeys,
whom they overtook on the way. The Mengwe crept out of the same hole,
but it was a long while afterwards. The Tortoise, the Wolves, and the
Turkeys, all confederated to declare war against the Bears, who were a
very numerous and savage tribe; and the hatchet has not been buried yet.
But they made a firm peace with the Rattlesnakes, which lasted till the
coming of the Big-knives, when the latter broke the calumet of peace by
biting an Indian, whom they mistook for a white man. Since then these
two people have also been at war.

When the Minnatarees arrived in the upper air, they established
themselves on the spot where they now reside. Very soon after, a party
of strange men appeared among them, mounted on animals, or rather they
seemed a part of strange animals, with four legs, possessed of great
fleetness, and whose long and beautiful tails swept the earth where they
trod. They attacked the wonderful creatures with their bows and arrows,
and succeeded in killing one of them, upon which the others ran away.
Not at first perceiving that the man and horse were two distinct
animals, how much were they surprised to see the former fall to the
earth, as if one part of the compound of the animal was dead, and the
other still active, having received no injury. They at length succeeding
in capturing the horse, and, after admiring the beauty of his form, and
becoming familiar with him, they proceeded to tie one of their young men
upon his back with cords that he might not fall off. The horse was then
led cautiously by the halter until he became sufficiently tame to ride
alone, and without a leader. It was in this manner that our nation
procured the horse, and from this one sprung the breed we now have.

Brothers, this is what our fathers told us of the manner in which the
Minnatarees and other Indian tribes became possessed of their present
hunting-grounds, and of the way in which our nation procured the
horse.--I have done.

NOTES.

(1) _The Hissing-Snake_.--p. 201.

This snake is the most remarkable of the different species of snake that
infest the western wilds. It is of the small speckled kind, and about
eight inches long. When any thing approaches, it flattens itself in a
moment, and its spots, which are of various dyes, become visibly
brighter through rage; at the same time it blows from its mouth, with
great force, a subtle wind, that is reported to be of a nauseous smell,
and, if drawn in with the breath of the unwary traveller, it is said,
will infallibly bring on a decline, that in a few months must prove
mortal. So says Carver.

(2) _Feast of rejoicing for their death_.--p. 204.

The early travellers report, that some of the tribes on the banks of the
Mississippi, in the words of the text, "celebrated the death of a man
with great rejoicing."

LOVE AND WAR.

Many a winter has passed away, and many a season's snow mixed with the
deep current of the great lake Superior, since the fame of Wanawosh was
sounded along its shores. He was the son of an ancient line, who had
preserved the chieftainship in their family from the remotest times. His
fathers had all been renowned warriors and hunters, and hence he
cherished a lofty pride of ancestry, and the belief that he himself, as
well as they, were better than those by whom he was surrounded. To the
reputation of his descent from eminent ancestors he added the advantages
of a tall and commanding person, and the dazzling qualities of great
personal strength and activity--qualities ever appreciated most highly
by those who are deficient in mental power. His bow was renowned
throughout the surrounding tribes, for its weight and extraordinary
dimensions; and there were few that could raise his ponderous war-club,
or poise his mighty spear. He was often known to have shot one of his
flint-headed arrows through the body of a deer, and to have beat in the
skull of a male buffalo with a single blow of his club. His counsel was
as much sought as his prowess was feared, so that he came in tune to be
equally famed as a hunter, a warrior, and a sage. But he had now passed
the meridian of his days, and the term Akkeewaisee, "one who had been
long above the earth," was familiarly applied to him. Such was Wanawosh,
to whom the united voice of the nation awarded the first place in their
esteem and the highest seat in authority. Even had he wanted the
hereditary power and dignity, the esteem, and affection, and veneration,
of his people, would have conferred upon him rule, quite as potential in
its nature as that which he enjoyed by his birthright. But pride was the
ruling passion of this great chieftain, and to that he sacrificed every
other passion.

Wanawosh had an only daughter, who had now lived to witness the budding
of the leaves for the eighteenth spring. Her father was not more
celebrated for his deeds of strength and valour, than his gentle
daughter for her goodness, her slender and graceful form, her dark and
beaming eyes, and her black and flowing hair. There had never been seen,
among the Indian nations, so lovely and perfect a maiden as the daughter
of Wanawosh. Warriors came from distant tribes to court the fair
daughter of the chieftain but they departed, some with bitter reproofs
for their presumption, and none with encouragement or permission to
hope.

Among others, her hand was sought by a youth of humble parentage, one
who had no other merits to recommend him, but such as might arise from a
graceful person, a manly step, and an eye beaming with the fires of
youth and love. These were sufficient to attract the favourable notice
of the daughter; but they were by no means satisfactory to the father,
who sought an alliance more suitable to his rank and the high
pretensions of his family. Little thought he of the happiness of his
daughter, so that he secured for his son-in-law a warrior of celebrity.

"Listen to me, young man," he replied to the trembling hunter, who had
sought the interview, "and be attentive to what you hear. You ask me to
bestow upon you my daughter, the chief solace of my age, and my choicest
gift from the Master of Life. Others have asked of me this boon, who
were as young, as active, and as ardent, as yourself. Some of these
persons had better claims to become my son-in-law than you. Some of them
had _struck_ the enemies of their country in distant forests, others had
been leaders of successful expeditions. Young man, have you considered
well who it is that you would choose for a father-in-law? Have you
reflected upon the deeds which have raised me in authority, and made my
name known to every one who has ever heard of the Chippewas, and dreaded
as the bolt of death by all the enemies of my nation? Where is a chief
who is not proud to be considered the friend of Wanawosh? Where is a
hunter who can bend the bow of Wanawosh? or a warrior who can wield his
club, or poise his weighty lance? And who is he, whose proudest wish is
not, that he may some day be equal in bravery to Wanawosh? Have you not
also heard, that my fathers came, ages ago, from the land of the rising
sun, decked with plumes, and clothed with authority? Have you not heard,
that my family have been chiefs of the Chippewas ever since the
moss-covered oaks on the hills were little sprouts?

"And what, young man, have you to boast that you should claim an
alliance with my warlike line? Have you ever met your enemies on the
field of battle? Have you ever brought home a trophy of victory? Where
are the prisoners your arm has made; where have you hung your scalps?
Have you ever proved your fortitude, by suffering protracted pain,
enduring continued hunger, or sustaining great fatigue? Is your name
known beyond the humble limits of your native village? Do the warriors
of distant tribes relate your splendid deeds, and, when they speak of a
war with the Chippewas, take into account the lance of the son of
Kayneewee? Go then, young man, and earn a name for yourself. It is none
but the brave that can ever hope to claim an alliance with the house of
Wanawosh. Think not my ancient and honoured blood shall mingle with the
humble mark of the Awausees, fit _totem_ for fishermen."

The intimidated lover departed, but he resolved to do a deed that should
render him worthy of the daughter of Wanawosh, or perish in the attempt.
He called together several of his young companions and equals in years,
imparted to them his design of conducting an expedition against the
enemy, and requested their assistance. Several embraced the proposal
immediately; others were soon brought to acquiesce, and, before ten suns
had set, he saw himself at the head of a formidable party of young
warriors, all eager, like himself, to distinguish themselves in battle.
Each warrior was armed, according to the custom of the period, with a
bow and quiver of arrows, tipped with flint or jasper, and each carried
a _mushkeemoot_ upon his back, provided with a small quantity of parched
and pounded corn, mixed with a little pemmican or pounded meat. Each was
furnished with a kind of stone knife, and a war-club of hard wood,
fastened to a girth of deer-skin. In addition to this, some carried the
ancient sheemaugun or Indian lance, consisting of a smooth pole above
one fathom in length, with a spear of flint firmly tied on with splints
of hard wood, bound down with deer's sinews. Thus equipped, and each
warrior painted in a manner to suit his fancy, and ornamented with
appropriate feathers, they repaired to the spot appointed for the
war-dance.[A]

[Footnote A: See the description of this dance in a note to The
Expedition of the Lenni Lenape in vol. ii.]

A level grassy plain extended for some distance from the lodge of
Wanawosh, towards a point of land jutting into the lake. Lodges of green
bark were promiscuously interspersed over this spot, with here and there
a cluster of trees, or a solitary pine, which had escaped the fury of
tempests for a thousand years. A belt of yellow sand skirted the lake
shore in front, and a tall forest of oaks, pines, and poplars, formed
the back-ground. In the centre of this green, stood a large pine,
shattered and branchless from the conflicts of the elements, with a
clear space around, famous as the scene of the war-dance, time out of
mind. Here the youths assembled with their tall and graceful leader,
distinguished, not only by his bearing, but by the feathers of the white
eagle, which he wore on his head. A bright fire of pine-wood blazed
upon the green, throwing its gleams upon the surrounding darkness. The
young warrior led his men twice or thrice in a circular manner around
this fire, with a measured step and solemn chant. Then, suddenly
halting, the war-whoop was raised, and the dance immediately begun. An
old man, sitting at the head of the ring, beat time upon the drum, while
the grim array of warriors made the woods re-echo with their yells. Each
warrior chanted alternately the verse of a song, all the rest joining in
chorus:--

The eagles scream on high;
They whet their forked beaks;
Raise--raise the battle-cry,
'Tis fame our leader seeks.

Thus they continued the dance for two days and nights, with short
intermissions; when, dropping off, one by one, from the fire, each
sought his several way to the place appointed for the rendezvous, on the
confines of the enemy's country. A braver or more determined war-party
never left the village of the Chippewas. Their leader was not among the
last to depart; but he did not quit the village without bidding a tender
adieu to the daughter of Wanawosh. He imparted to her his firm
determination, to perform an act that should establish his name as a
warrior, or die in the attempt. He told her of the hitter pangs he had
felt at her father's taunts--that his soul spurned the imputations of
effeminacy and cowardice, implied by his language. He declared, that he
never could be happy, either with or without her, until he had proved to
the whole tribe the strength of his heart, which is the Indian term for
courage. He said, that his dreams had not been so propitious as he could
wish; but that he should not cease to invoke the favour of the Great
Spirit in his behalf. He repeated his protestations of inviolable
attachment, which she returned, and, pledging vows of mutual fidelity,
they separated.

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