A Narrative of the Captivity and Adventures of John Tanner (U.S. Interpreter at the Saut de Ste. Marie) / During Thirty Years Residence among the Indians in the Interior of North America

Gi-aushk-wug—Gulls.

Man-e-toanse-sug[53]—Insects.

Mo-saig—Worms.

Ke-goi-yug—Fishes.

MINERALS

That the Indians are less observant of inanimate substances than of organized beings, will be manifest from the following meagre catalogue of minerals.

OF TOTEMS

Among the Indians of the Algonkin stock, every man receives from his father a totem, or family name. They affirm that no man is, by their customs, allowed to change his totem; and as this distinctive mark descends to all the children a man may have, as well as to all the prisoners he may take and adopt, it is manifest that, like the genealogies of the Hebrews, these totems should afford a complete enumeration of the stocks from which all the families have been derived. It differs not from our institution of surnames, except that the obligations of friendship and hospitality, and the restraint upon intermarriage, which it imposes, are more scrupulously regarded. They profess to consider it highly criminal for a man to marry a woman whose totem is the same as his own; and they relate instances where young men, for a violation of this rule, have been put to death by their nearest relatives. They say, also, that those having the same totem are bound, under whatever circumstances, as they meet, even though they should be of different and hostile bands, to treat each other not only as friends, but as brethren, sisters, and relatives of the same family.

Of the origin of this institution, and of the obligation to its strict observance, the Indians profess to know nothing. They say they suppose the totem was given them in the beginning, by their creator. Like surnames among us, these marks are now numerous; and, as in the case of our surnames, it is difficult to account for their multiplicity, without supposing a time when they might have been changed, or new ones adopted, more easily than at present.

It is not, as yet, well ascertained that any of the North American Indians, except those of the Algonkin family, have these peculiar genealogical marks. Those of the great Chippewyan family, in the north, we are well assured, have them not. From long acquaintance with the Dahcotah bands of the Mississippi and St. Peters, in which designation we include the Hoochawgenah, or Winnebagoes, and the Ioways, and from a more transient sojourning among the Otoes, the Kansas, the Omawhawes, the Pawnees, and other western tribes, we have, with careful inquiry and search, been able to collect no intimation of such a custom among them. But of the western Indians we cannot speak with entire confidence, as we recollect to have heard Renville, an interpreter for the Sioux, after much puzzling and cross-examination, admit that something of the kind might exist among that people. It may be observed, that the Algonkins believe all other Indians to have totems, though, from the necessity they are in general under, of remaining ignorant of those of hostile bands, the omission of the totem in their picture writing serves to designate an enemy. Thus, those bands of Ojibbeways who border on the country of the Dahcotah, or Sioux, always understand the figure of a man without totem, to mean one of that people.

CATALOGUE OF TOTEMS
Among the Ottawaws and Ojibways with the names of some to whom they belong.

Many more might be enumerated, but these are sufficient to give an idea of the kinds of objects from which they choose to derive their names. The trivial or common name of a man may be, and often is, changed on his going to war, or at the occurrence of any remarkable event; but the totem is never changed. It is not true, that they have, in all instances, the figure of whatever may be their totem always tattooed on some part of their body, nor that they carry about them a skin, or any other mark, by which it may be immediately recognised. Though they may sometimes do this, they are, in other instances, when they meet as strangers, compelled to inquire of each other their respective totems.[57]

The word totem is of the Ojibbeway language, and, like almost all others, is readily moulded into the form of a verb, as will appear from the following examples:—

Ah-neen en-dah che-un-net, O-to-tem-e-waun maun-duh-pe?
How many are these are totems here?
How many are the totems of this band?

Wa-nain way-gi-osh-kun wa-to-ta-met?
What the gull is his totem?
What is the gull’s totem?

KNOWLEDGE OF ASTRONOMY

Of the opinions of the Indians respecting the heavenly bodies, little need be said. An extensive acquaintance with the motions, figures, distances, etc. of these bodies, could not have been expected from people situated as they are, and deprived altogether of the aids of instruments, and a written language. They pretend to no more knowledge on these subjects than they possess.

Au-do-me-ne, an intelligent Ottawwaw of Wawgunuk-kizze, in answer to my inquiries concerning their opinion of the sun and moon, related to me the following fable:—

Long ago, an old Ojibbeway chief, and his wife, who lived on the shore of Lake Huron, had one son, a very beautiful boy. His name was Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, (he that catches clouds,) and his totem, after that of his father, a beaver. He would have been a great favourite with them, for he was, in the main, affectionate and dutiful, except that they could never persuade him to fast. Though they gave him charcoal, in place of his usual breakfast, he would never blacken his face, and if he could find fish eggs, or the head of a fish, he would roast them, and have something to eat. Once they took from him what he had thus cooked in place of his accustomed breakfast, and threw him some coals instead of it. But this was the last of many attempts to compel him to fast. He took up the coals, blackened his face, went out, and lay down. At night, he did not return into the lodge of his parents, but slept without. In his dream he saw a very beautiful woman come down from above, and stand at his feet. She said, “Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, I am come for you; see that you step in my tracks.” The lad obeyed without hesitation, and stepping carefully in her steps, he presently found himself ascending above the tops of the trees, through the air, and beyond the clouds. His guide at length passed through a small round hole, and he following her, found himself standing on a beautiful and extensive prairie.

They followed the path, which led them to a large and rich looking lodge; entering here, they saw on one side pipes and war clubs, bows, arrows, and spears, with the various implements and ornaments of men. At the other end of the lodge were the things belonging to women. Here was the home of the beautiful girl who had been his companion, and she had, on the sticks, a belt she had not finished weaving. She said to him, “My brother is coming, and I must conceal you.” So putting him in one corner, she spread the belt over him. Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, however, watched what passed without, from his concealment, and saw the brother of the young woman come in, most splendidly dressed, and take down a pipe from the wall. After he had smoked, he laid aside his pipe, and the sack containing his pah-koo-se-gun, and said, “When, my sister, will you cease from these practices? Have you forgotten that the Greatest of the Spirits has forbidden you to steal the children of those who live below? You suppose you have concealed this that you have now brought, but do I not know that he is here in the lodge? If you would not incur my displeasure, you must send him immediately down to his friends.” But she would not. He then said to the boy, when he found that his sister was determined not to dismiss him, “You may as well come out from that place, where you are not concealed from me, and walk about, for you will be lonesome and hungry if you remain there.” He took down a bow and arrows, and a pipe of red stone, richly ornamented, to give him. So the boy came out from under the belt, and amused himself with the bow and pipe the man gave him, and he became the husband of the young woman who had brought him up from the woods near his father’s lodge.

He went abroad in the open prairie, but in all this fair and ample country, he found no inhabitants, except his wife and her brother. The plains were adorned with flowers, and garnished with bright and sparkling streams, but the animals were not like those he had been accustomed to see. Night followed day, as on the earth, but with the first appearance of light, the brother-in-law of Ono-wut-to-kwut-to began to make his preparations to leave the lodge. All day, and every day, he was absent, and returned in the evening; his wife, also, though not so regular in the time of her departure and return, was often absent great part of the night.

He was curious to know where they spent all the time of their absence, and he obtained from his brother-in-law permission to accompany him in one of his daily journeys. They went on in a smooth and open path, through prairies, to which they could see no boundary, until Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, becoming hungry, asked his companion if he did not think he should find any game. “Be patient, my brother,” said he; “this is my road in which I walk every day, and at no great distance is the place where I constantly eat my dinner. When we arrive there you shall see how I am supplied with food.”

They came at length to a place where were many fine mats to sit down upon, and a hole through which to look down upon the earth. Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, at the bidding of his companion, looked down through this hole, and saw far beneath him the great lakes, and the villages, not of the Ojibbeways only, but of all the red skins. In one place he saw a war party, stealing silently along toward the hunting camp of their enemies, and his companion told him what would be the result of the attack they were about to make. In another place he saw people feasting and dancing: young men were engaged at their sports, and here and there women were labouring at their accustomed avocations.

The companion of Ono-wut-to-kwut-to called his attention to a group of children playing beside a lodge. “Do you see,” said he, “that active and beautiful boy?” at the same time throwing a very small stone, which hit the child, who immediately fell to the ground, and presently they saw him carried into the lodge. Then they saw people running about, and heard the she-she-gwun, and the song and prayer of the medicine man, entreating that the child’s life might be spared. To this request his companion made answer, “Send me up the white dog.” Then they could distinguish the hurry and bustle of preparation for a feast, a white dog killed and singed, and the people, who were called, assembling at the lodge. While these things were passing, he addressed himself to Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, saying, “There are, among you in the lower world, some whom you call great medicine men; but it is because their ears are open, and they hear my voice, when I have struck any one, that they are able to give relief to the sick. They direct the people to send me whatever I call for, and when they have sent it, I remove my hand from those I had made sick.” When he had said this, the white dog was parcelled out in dishes, for those that were at the feast; then the medicine man, when they were about to begin to eat, said, “We send thee this, Great Manito;” and immediately they saw the dog, cooked, and ready to be eaten, rising to them through the air. After they had dined, they returned home by another path.

In this manner they lived for some time, but Ono-wut-to-kwut-to had not forgotten his friends, and the many pleasant things he had left in his father’s village, and he longed to return to the earth. At last, his wife consented to his request. “Since,” said she, “you are better pleased with the poverty, the cares, and the miseries of the world beneath, then with the peaceful and permanent delights of these prairies, go. I give you permission to depart; not only so, but since I brought you hither, I shall carry you back to the place where I found you, near your father’s lodge; but remember, you are still my husband, and that my power over you is in no manner diminished. You may return to your relatives, and live to the common age of man by observing what I now say to you. Beware how you venture to take a wife among men. Whenever you do so, you shall feel my displeasure; and if you marry the second time, it is then you will be called to return to me.”

Then Ono-wut-to-kwut-to awoke, and found himself on the ground, near the door of his father’s lodge. Instead of the bright beings of his vision, he saw about him his aged mother, and his relatives, who told him he had been absent about a year. For some time he was serious and abstracted; but, by degrees, the impression of his visit to the upper world wore off. He began to doubt the reality of what he had heard and seen. At length, forgetful of the admonitions of his spouse, he married a beautiful young woman of his own tribe. Four days afterwards she was a corpse. But even the effect of this fearful admonition was not permanent. He again ventured to marry, and soon afterwards, going out of his lodge one night, to listen to some unusual noise, he disappeared, to return no more. It was believed that his wife from the upper world came to recall him, according to her threat, and that he still remains in those upper regions, and has taken the place of his brother-in-law, in overlooking the affairs of men.

It appears from this tradition, that worship, or sacrifices, are, among the Ottawwaws, sometimes made to the sun and moon; and they acknowledge that these luminaries, or rather the man in the sun, and the woman in the moon, keep watch over all our actions.

The various changes of the moon afford them a method of measuring time, very definite as to the periods, but variable in the names they give them. Their old men have many disputes about the number of moons in each year, and they give different names to each of these. Some of the names in common use are the following. The first words are in the Ottawwaw, and the second in the Menomonie dialect.

Another moon spoken of by the Menomonies, is Wai-to-ke Ka-zho, the snake moon, which belongs to the spring season.

The following short catalogue of stars and constellations, will show that they pay some attention to the more remote of the heavenly bodies. Some few of their old men, it is said, have many more names.

Of the true cause of the increase and decrease of the moon, of eclipses, and of other phenomena which depend upon the motions of the heavenly bodies, they have no correct conceptions. When the moon is in eclipse, they say it is dying, and they load and discharge their guns at it; and when they perceive the bright part becoming a little larger, they imagine they have aided to drive away the sickness which was overpowering it. Of the milky way, they sometimes say, that a turtle has been swimming along the bottom of the sky, and disturbed the mud. Of the aurora borealis, which they call the dance of the dead, their opinion, though a little more poetic, is equally childish. Several meteoric phenomena they distinguish from those remoter appearances which are beyond our atmosphere, and of the former they sometimes say, “they belong to us.”

What was long ago stated by Roger Williams, of the mythology of the Indians of Rhode Island, agrees but in part with the opinions of the present day among the Ottawwaws. Of Cau-tan-to-wit, “the great south-west god,” we hear nothing. Ning-gah-be-an-nong Manito, the western god, the younger brother of Na-na-bon-jou, the god of the country of the dead, has taken his place. In his Saw-waw-nand, we recognize the Shaw-wun-noug Manito, the southern god of the Ottawwaws. But all these, Waw-bun-ong Manito, the god of the morning, or of the east, Ke-way-tin-ong Manito, the god of the north, with Ka-no-waw-bum-min-uk, “he that sees us,” whose place is in the sun, are inferior in power to many others; even to the Ke-zhe-ko-we-nin-ne-wug, the sky people; a race of small, but benevolent and watchful beings, who are ever ready to do good to mankind.

CHAPTER II.
Comparison of numerals, to ten, in several American dialects.

1. Oto—From Say.

• Yon-ka
• No-wa
• Tah-ne
• To-wa
• Sah-tah
• Sha-gua
• Shah-a-muh
• Kra-rah-ba-na
• Shan-ka
• Kra-ba-nuh

2. Konza.

• Meakh-che
• Nom-pah
• Yah-ber-re
• To-pah
• Sha-tah
• Shahp-peh
• Pa-om-bah
• Pa-yah-ber-re
• Shank-kuh
• Ker-ab-bu-rah

3. Omawhaw.

• Meach-che
• Nom-bah
• Ra-bene
• To-bah
• Sah-tah
• Shap-pa
• Pa-noom-ba
• Pa-rah-bene
• Shoon-kah
• Kra-ba-rah

4. Yauktong.

• Wan-chah
• No-pah
• Yah-me-ne
• To-pah
• Zah-pe-tah
• Shah-kah-pe
• Shah-ko-e
• Sha-kun-do-ah
• Nuh-pet-che-wun-bah
• Week-che-min-nuh

5. Dahkotah—Of Upper Mississippi.

• Wau-zhe-tah
• No-a-pah
• Yah-min-ne
• To-a-pah
• Zah-pe-tah
• Sha-kah-pe
• Shah-koan
• Shah-han-doah
• Neep-chew-wun-kah
• Week-chim-mah-ne

6. Minnetahse.

• Le-mois-so
• No-o-pah
• Nah-me
• To-pah
• Cheh-hoh
• A-cah-me
• Chap-po
• No-pup-pe
• No-was-sap-pa
• Pe-sah-gas

7. Pawnee.

• As-ko
• Pet-ko
• Tou-wet
• Shke-tiksh
• She-oksh
• Shek-shah-bish
• Pet-ko-shek-sha-bish
• Tou-wet-sha-bish
• Tok-shere-wa
• Tok-shere

8. Choktaw.

• Chaf-fah
• To-ko-lo
• To-cha-nah
• Osh-tah
• Tath-lah-pe
• Han-nah-la
• Oon-to-ko-lo
• Oon-to-che-nah
• Chak-ah-ta
• Po-ko-la

9. Ojibbeway.

• Ning-gooj-waw, or Ba-zhik
• Neezh-waw, or Neezh
• Nis-swaw, or Nis-swe
• Ne-win
• Nah-nun
• Ning-good-waw-swe
• Neezh-zhwaw-swe
• Shwaw-swe
• Shong-gus-swe, or shong
• Me-dos-swe, or kwaitch

10. Muskwake.

• Ne kot
• Neesh
• Ne-on-en
• Ne-kot-waus-keek
• Ne-kot-wau-swa
• Nee-swa
• Ne-o
• Neesh-waus-eek
• Shaunk
• Me-to-swa

11. Minsi—From Heckewelder.

• Gut-ti
• Nis-cha
• Na-cha
• Ne-wa
• Na-lan
• Gut-tasch
• Nis-choasch
• Cha-asch
• No-we-li
• Wim-bat

12. Algonkin—From Heckewelder.

• Pe-gik
• Ninch
• Nis-soue
• Neou
• Na-sau
• Nin-gon-ton-as-sou
• Nin-chou-as-sou
• Nis-sou-as-sou
• Chan-gas-sou
• Mil-las-sou

13. Delaware—From Heckewelder.

• Ni-gut-ti
• Nis-cha
• Na-cha
• Ne-wo
• Pa-le-nach
• Gut-tasch
• Nis-chash
• Chasch
• Pes-chonk
• Tel-len

14. Mahnomonie.

• Ne-kotes
• Neesh
• Nah-new
• Ne-ew
• Nean-nun
• Ne-kot-was-sa-tah
• No-ha-kun
• Suah-sek
• Shaw-ka-waw
• Me-tah-tah

15. Cree—From Say.

• Paynk
• Ne-shuh
• Nesh-to
• Na-a-wo
• Nean-nun
• Ne-go-to-ah-sek
• Ta-pa-coh
• Aa-na-nes
• Ta-ka-to
• Me-ta-ta

16. Winnebago.

• Zhunk-he-rah
• Noam-pee-wee
• Tah-nee-wee
• Kho-a-pee-wee
• Saut-shah
• Ah-ka-a-way
• Shau-koa
• Ar-waw-oank
• Zhunke-schoonk-schoone
• Kar-ra-pun-na-nah

17. Adage—From Duponceau.

• Nan-cas
• Nass
• Colle
• Cac-ca-che
• Sep-pa-can
• Pa-ca-nan-cus
• Pa-can-ess
• Pa-ca-lon
• Sic-kin-ish
• Neus-ne

18. Muskogee—From Adair.

• Hom-mai
• Hok-kole
• Too-che-na
• Osh-ta
• Cha-ka-pe
• E-pah-ghe
• Ho-loo-pha-ge
• Chee-ne-pa
• Oh-sta-pe
• Pa-ko-le

19. Choktah and Chiksah—From Adair.

• Cheph-pho
• Too-ga-lo
• Toot-che-na
• Oos-ta
• Tath-la-be
• Han-nah-le
• Un-too-ga-lo
• Un-too-che-na
• Chak-ka-le
• Po-koo-le

20. Cherokee—From Adair.

• So-guo
• Tah-ne
• Choch
• Nauk-ke
• Ish-ke
• Soo-tare
• Ka-re-koge
• Sah-nay-ra
• Soh-nay-ra
• Skoch
• So-at-too (11)
• Ta-ra-too (12)

21. Quaddies, (Maine.)—From Duponceau.

• Nai-get
• Nes
• Nane
• Ga-mat-chine
• A-lo-he-gan-nah
• Ni-hi
• Na-ho
• Ok-muh-hine
• As-kwi-nan-dak
• Ney-dinsk

22. Quawpaw—From Duponceau’s MS.

• Milch-tih
• Non-ne-pah
• Dag-he-nig
• Tu-ah
• Sat-ton
• Schap-peh
• Pen-na-pah
• Pe-dag-he-nih
• Schunk-kah
• Ge-deh-bo-nah

23. Penobscot—From Duponceau’s MS.

• Pe-suock
• Neise
• Nhas
• Yeuf
• Pa-le-neusg
• Neuk-tansg
• Ta-boos
• San-suk
• No-cle
• Ma-ta-ta

24. Miami—From Duponceau’s MS.

• Ng-goo-teh
• Nii-ju-eh
• Nisth-ueh
• Nu-ueh
• Ilaan-ueh
• Ka-kat-sueh
• Nii-ju-eh
• Po-laa-neh
• Ngo-te-me-neh-kek
• Mo-taat-sueh

25. Shawnese—From Duponceau’s MS.

• In-gut-i, or, n’gut-i
• Nis-chwe
• N’swe
• Ni-wi
• Nia-lan-wi
• Ka-kat-swi
• Swach-tet-swy
• Pal-la-ni
• N’gut-ti-me-pech-gi
• Mat-tat-swy

26. Unachog—From Duponceau’s MS.

• Na-gwut
• Nees
• Nos
• Yaut
• Pa, or, na-paa
• Na-cut-tah, or, cut-tah
• Tum-po-wa
• Swat
• Neone
• Pay-ac

27. Natick—From Elliot’s Bib.

• Ne-gunt
• Neese
• Nish
• Yau
• Na-pan-na-tah-she
• Ne-kwut-ta-tah-she
• Ne-sau-suk-tah-she
• Shwo-suk-tah-she
• Pa-skoo-gun-tah-she
• Pi-uk

28. Nousaghauset—From Elliot’s Bib. in MS.

• Ne-guit
• Nase
• Nish
• Yoh
• Na-pau-na
• Kwut-ta
• E-na-da
• Shwo-suk
• Pas-ku-git
• Pi-uk

29. Sourikwosiorum.—From John De Laet.

• Ne-gout
• Ta-bo
• Chicht
• Ne-ou
• Nau
• Ka-ma-chin
• E-roe-kwe-sink
• Meg-on-ma-chin
• Egh-ko-na-deck
• Me-tun

30. Canadenses, Ib.—From Auct. Lescarbot.

• Be-gou
• Ni-chou
• Nich-toa
• Rau
• A-pa-te-ta
• Con-tou-sai-hin
• Ne-o-va-chin
• Nes-to-va-chin
• Pes-co-va-det
• Me-tun

31. Saukikani—From J. Daet, Auct. Johan. Smith

• Cotte
• Nysse
• Na-cha
• Wy-we
• Pa-re-nagh
• Cot-tash
• Nys-sas
• Ge-chas
• Pes-chon
• Ter-ren

32. Algonkin—From J. Long.

• Pay-jik
• Ninch
• Na-ran
• Nin-goot-was-soo
• Nin-cho-was-soo
• Nis-soo
• Neoo
• Nis-so-was-so
• Shon-gas-soo
• Ni-tas-soo

33. Chippeway—From J. Long.

• Pay-shik
• Neesh
• Nees-swoy
• Ni-on
• Na-ran
• Ne-gut-wos-swoy
• Swos-swoy
• Shau-gos-swoy
• Me-tos-swoy

34. New Stockbridge—From Kao-no-mut, a woman who had been living on Fox River, 1827.

• N’got-tah
• Ne-shah
• Nah-hah
• Nah-wah
• No-nun
• N’ko-taus
• To-pau-wus
• Khous-so
• Nah-ne-we
• N’tan-net

35. Mohegan.

• Ug-wit-toh
• Nes-oh
• Nogh-hoh
• Nau-woh
• Nu-non
• Ug-wit-tus
• Tu-pou-wus
• Ghu-sooh
• Nau-ne-weh
• Ne-tau-nit

36. Monsee—From an Indian at Buffaloe.

• N’got-tah
• Ne-shah
• N’hah
• Na-ah
• Naw-bun
• N’got-waws
• Nush-waus
• N’haus
• No-wa-lah
• Wim-bat

37. Naudoway—From Tanner.

• Wis-ka-ut
• Tik-ke-ne
• Os-sah
• Kia-nec
• Whisk
• Yah-gah
• Shah-tuk
• Sah-ta-gah
• Te-unk-teuh
• We-go-ne

38. Seneca—From an Indian at Buffaloe, 1827.

• Skaut
• Tik-thnee
• Snu-ah
• Ka-ae
• Weish
• Yah-eh
• Chah-duk
• Ta-ke-oh
• Teu-tohn
• Wus-han

39. Potiwattomie—From an Indian at Detroit, 1827.

• Ne-got
• Neesh
• Nees-wa
• Na-ow
• Na-nun
• Ne-got-waut-so
• No-okt-so
• Su-aut-so
• Shah-kah
• Kwetch

40. Ottawwaw—From Tanner.

• Ne-goch-waw
• Neesh-waw
• Nis-waw
• Ne-win
• Nah-nun
• Nin-got-wau-swa
• Neesh-wau-swa
• Nis-waw
• Shaunk
• Kwetch

41. Chippewyan—From a German Interpreter.

• Ish-li-a
• Nuh-ka
• Tah-sha
• Taing-a
• Sah-zhun-lah-ha
• I-ka-lah-rah
• I-ka-taing-ha
• Ish-lah-in-ding-ga
• Kas-ka-koo-un-nee-rah
• Koo-un-nu-ah

42. Chippewyan—From M’Kenzie.

• Sta-chy
• Na-ghur
• Tagh-y
• Dengk-y
• Sas-sou-la-chee
• Al-ke-tar-hy-y
• Al-ki-deing-hy
• Ca-ki-na-ha-noth-na
• Ca-noth-na

43. Chippewyan—From a woman, a native of Churchill.

• Ith-lia
• Nuk-ka
• Krah-ha, or tah-rhe
• Shah-zet-te
• Il-ket-ting
• Ting-he
• Sah-zun-lah-ha
• Il-ket-tah-rah
• Kah-kin-ho-en-er-nah
• Ho-en-er-nah

44. Anglo Saxon.

• Aen
• Twe-gen, or, twa
• Threo, or, thry
• Feo-ther, or, feo-wer
• Six
• Se-o-fou
• Eaghta
• Ni-gone
• Tyn

45. Cree—From M’Kenzie.

• Pey-ac
• Ni-sheu
• Nish-tou
• Ne-way
• Ni-an-nan
• Ne-gou-ta-woe-sic
• Nish-wi-o-sic
• Jan-na-new
• Shack
• Mi-ta-tat

46. Algonkin—From M’Kenzie.

• Pe-cheik
• Nije
• Nis-wois
• Neau
• Na-nan
• Ni-gou-ta-wa-swois
• Ni-gi-was-wois
• She-was-wois
• Shan-gwos-wois
• Mit-as-swois

47. Chippewyan—From a Chippewyan.

• Eth-li-ah
• Nuk-kur
• Tor-ri
• Ding-he
• Sos-su-li-he
• El-kat-har-ri
• Slus-ing-ding-he
• El-ket-ding-he
• Kutch-e-no-ner-re
• Ho-ner-ne-nuh

48. Winnebago—From a Winnebago.

• Zhunk-kaid
• Noamp
• Tarn
• T’joab
• Sarj
• Har-ker-ra
• Shar-goan
• Kad-do-unk
• Yunk-ked-joos-koon
• Ker-reb-hon-na

49. Cree—From a native.

• Pe-ak
• Nees-to
• Ne-o
• Ne-ah-nun
• Ning-good-waw-sik
• Ne-su
• Ta-be-ko
• E-nah-ne
• Kam-me-tah-tat
• Me-tah-tat

50. Mahnesheet, (slow-tongues,) residing on the St. Johns, N. B. From a native.

• Na-koot
• Tah-bo
• Sheist
• Na-oo
• Nahn
• Kah-mutch-in
• Lo-he-gin-nuk
• O-go-mul-chin
• Aish-ko-nah-daig
• Ko-dainsk

CHAPTER III.
Music and poetry of the Indians.

Here, it must be acknowledged, we enter a barren field, offering little to excite industry, or to reward inquiry. Without literature to give perpetuity to the creations of genius, or to bear to succeeding times the record of remarkable events, the Americans have no store house of ancient learning to open to the curiosity of the European race. They have probably never thought like the Arabs, that the cultivation of their language was an object of importance; and though the orator must at times have experienced the effect of a happy choice of expression, he must always have been confined to a narrow range, by the necessity of keeping within the comprehension of his hearers. Hence their public speakers appear to depend more on a certain vehemence and earnestness of manner, which is intelligible without words, than upon any elegance of thought, or refinement of diction.

Their songs, whether of war or devotion, consist, for the most, of a few words or short phrases many times repeated; and in their speeches, they dwell long and vehemently on the same idea. One who hears an Indian orator without comprehending his language, would confidently suppose that his discourse abounded with meaning; but these speeches, like their tedious and monotonous chants, when clearly understood, appear so poor and jejune, that few white men would listen to either, were it not with the hope of extracting information, of which the speaker, or the singer himself, must be wholly unconscious. But after all is heard and explained, and carefully examined in all its bearings, it must be principally the business of a quick and fertile imagination, to find in them moral instruction or historical information. If we find among the American Indians traditional items, bearing manifest and strong resemblance to those of the great Asiatic family, from whom we have adopted many of our religious opinions, this can only be considered as indicating what needed no proof; namely: That this people, as well as ourselves, have descended from that primeval stock, which, planted somewhere upon the mountains of Asia, has sent forth its branches into all parts of the earth. Thither, we are taught by the most ancient human records, and by the concurrent deductions of all sound philosophy, and honest inquiry, to look for the great fountain of the human race: and if some of the streams, in descending thence, have been concealed in swamps, or sunk beneath sands, we ought not therefore to doubt that their origin is to be thence deduced. But that existing or retrieveable monuments or resemblances, will ever enable the curious satisfactorily to trace the American branch to its origin, need not now be expected. Nevertheless, this part of the subject may have interest for those who love to trace the human character through all situations and exposures, and to contemplate the effect of revolutions in external circumstances, on manners, language, and metaphysical opinions.

Sufficient evidence probably exists, to convince many, that the natives of the central regions of North America, whatever diversities of dialect may now exist, are essentially of the same race with the Peruvians, the Mexicans, and the Natchez; between whom and the ancient inhabitants of Greece and Italy, and that portion of the present population of India who worship Brama, Boudd, Ganesa, Iswara, etc. a near relationship has already been ascertained. In the metamorphoses which the Indian traditions assign to many trees, plants, animals, and other things, we are strongly reminded of the similar superstitions preserved by the Roman poets. We find, also, in the American traditions, distinct allusions to a general deluge, and to several other particulars which we are accustomed to consider as resting solely on the authority of the Mosaic history. But when we reflect on the almost universal distribution of these opinions, in some shape or other, among all known races of men, we may admit a doubt whether they have been derived from the historical books of the Hebrews, or whether they are not rather the glimmerings of that primitive light, which, at the first great division after the flood, into the families of Shem, Ham, and Japhet, and more recently at the dispersion of Babel, must have been in possession of all mankind. We find in the Mosaic history, written, as it was, long after the period here spoken of, abundant evidence, not only that traditional remembrance of the deluge, and other great events in the early history of mankind, was still preserved; but that direct revelations of the mind and will of the Creator had been, and were still made to men, at sundry times, and in divers places. Within two or three hundred years of the deluge, some knowledge of the mechanic arts, at least ship building and masonry, must have remained, or so many men would not have been found ready to undertake the erection of a tower whose top should reach unto Heaven. At this time, Noah, the second father of mankind, and his three sons, who, as well as himself, had known the “world before the flood,” were still alive. Any branch, therefore, of the family of either of the three sons of Noah, removed at this time to “the isles of the gentiles,” or to whatever remote part of the earth their knowledge of navigation and other arts might enable them to reach, would retain at least a traditional cosmogony and theogony, which, after ever so many years, or ever so wide and devious a wandering, must probably have preserved resemblance, in some particulars, to the originals. Hence it will, we think, be evident, that although we may find a strong resemblance between some of the observances of the Indians and the Hebrews, we are by no means to infer, that one of these races must have descended from the other. All that they have in common, will probably be found to have grown out of similarity of circumstances; or may be traced to times long previous to the calling of Abraham.

But let us leave this profitless discussion, which has long since received more attention than it deserves, and return to the subject before us.

The poetry of the Indians, if they can properly be said to have any, is the language of excitement, and the expression of passion; and if whatever has this character, and is at the same time raised above the tone and style of ordinary conversation, and is or may be sung to music, is poetry, it cannot be denied that they have among them poetry and poets in abundance. Excitement of whatever kind, calls forth a peculiar manner of expression; and though measure and rhythm, polished and artificial structure, equally balanced and harmonious periods, may be wanting, they commonly accompany the utterance of their words by some modulation of the voice, like what we call singing. In all their religious feasts and solemnities, they address their prayers and praises to superior beings in song. In all times of distress and danger, or when suffering under the apprehension of immediate starvation, or awaiting the approach of death in some more horrid form, the Indian expresses his anxiety, offers up his petition, or perhaps recalls some favourite and cherished idea, his boast in life, and his consolation in death, by a measured and monotonous chant, in which the ear of the stranger distinguishes principally the frequent repetition of the same word.

Nor is it on the serious and momentous occasions of life only, that we witness these rude efforts at poetry and music. Love, in its disappointment, or in its success; sorrow, hope, and intoxication, choose the same method of utterance. When in a state of intoxication, as they often are, the men, and more particularly the women of some tribes, are heard by night, and often almost throughout the night, singing in a plaintive and melancholy tone of the death of their friends, or of other misfortunes. One who listens to these lamentations, while darkness and distance interpose to conceal the too often disgusting objects who utter them, and to soften down and mellow the tone of high pitched voices, will often find something affecting in their honest and unpremeditated complaints. Their voices are often fine, and the sentences they utter, are the language, most commonly, of real suffering, devested of affectation or art. From the great frequency with which these melancholy chantings, and the profuse flow of tears occur, as the consequences of intoxication among them, one might infer, either that their condition has in it a greater share of sorrow and of suffering than that of some other races, or that the excitement of strong drink affects them in a different manner. A fair inference, at least, is, that in their sober moments, they, like other men, wear a mask. Indeed, those who best know the Indians, are best acquainted with the constant efforts they make at concealment, and how well they at length teach the outward aspect to conceal or misrepresent the internal emotions. But for these unpremeditated effusions, particularly for the whining and drivelling of intoxication, the most enthusiastic admirer of the Indians will not claim the appellation of poetry. If any thing among them deserves this name, we must search for it among those traditionary songs which descend from father to son, and are transferred from man to man by purchase, to be used in their feasts, in the administration of remedies to the sick, and above all, in medicine hunting. That some of the songs thus preserved have considerable antiquity, we do not doubt; that they have much merit as poetical compositions, we are not disposed to assert. The poetry of the Indians, like their eloquence, requires the assistance of able translators, and those not too scrupulous to draw only from the materials of the original.

The method of delineation, by which they aid the memory in retaining the recalling, on occasion, these compositions, exhibits, perhaps, one of the earliest steps towards a written language. Yet, from its existence among them, in the present form, one would not hastily infer, that they had never been intruded upon by men of another race, learning or arts would finally have flourished among them. There are but too many evidences, that the aboriginal Americans are, by temperament, by some peculiarity of physical structure, or moral propensity, a more sluggish race, than the European; consequently, destined to a slow advance, or, perhaps, like most of the Asiatics, to be for ages stationary, or retrogradent, in the journey of improvement. We would not risk the assertion, that the Americans are an inferior race; the barrier to their improvement appears to be that indolence which is not less a habit of their minds than of their bodies, and which disqualifies them for spontaneous and long continued and laborious thinking. Hunger may, and does, overcome the habit of bodily indolence, or, at least, sometimes interrupts it; but, in the Indian character, the tendency is always to quiescence. Instances are infinitely rare, among them, of that restlessness of mind so common in the European race, which is ever in quest of something beyond the complete gratification of the wants of the body, and which has been the true source of so many great and ennobling actions. The past history of this race of men, is not wanting in instances of the manifestation of that inherent sluggishness of disposition, which has kept them back from the knowledge, the improvements, and the civilization, which have been so long urged upon them. Let it be granted, as doubtless it should be, that the Jesuits, and, to some extent, at least the Moravian, and other protestant missionaries, commenced their labours where they should have ended them, by offering to the benighted minds of the Indians, the stupendous, and, to them, totally incomprehensible doctrines of the christian religion; and that they, in a great measure, neglected to teach them those arts, which, by ensuring an abundance of means for the sustenance of life, might enable them, first of all, to fix in settled habitations, and afterwards gradually to adopt those habits and opinions which have ever been found indispensable in preparing the wilderness for the reception of the good seed. Yet, must we not acknowledge, that the descendants of those who were early received into intimate association with the whites, and learned from them the mechanical, and all the common arts of life, are, at this time, lamentably deficient in the virtues, as well as the knowledge we might have expected from them?

It is no part of the design of these remarks, to discourage any attempts that may be made to introduce the christian religion among these people; on the contrary, we look upon these efforts as always, in a greater or less degree, useful to the Indians; they originate as well in a diffusive and amiable benevolence, as a feeling of justice, and severe, though tardy compunction, which would seek, at this late day, to render to the starved and shivering remnant of the people who received us to their country in our day of small things, some recompense for the fair inheritance which we have wrested from their forefathers. The example of the Cherokees, and some others in the south, has been sufficient to prove, that under the influence of a mild climate, and a fertile soil, these people can be taught habits of settled, if not of persevering industry. From this condition of things, we can already see how, among that people, habits of mental enterprise and industry are to spring up, and we look forward with confidence to a source of continued improvement. That all the other bands and tribes, under similar auspices, and similar influences, would pursue a similar course, cannot be doubted. Philologists and speculative theorists may divide and class as they please; to the patient and industrious observer, who has mingled intimately with this race, in the low and fertile districts of the Mississippi, in the broad and smiling plains of Arkansaw and Red River, in the forests of the Upper Mississippi, and among the pines and the mosses of the upper lakes, it will be evident that the aboriginal people of the United States Territory, are all of one family, not by physical constitution and habit only, but by the structure and temperament of their minds; their modes of thinking and acting; and, indeed, in all physical and mental peculiarities, which set them apart from the remainder of the human family, as a peculiar people. Whatever course has, in one situation, proved in any measure effectual, to reclaim them from their vague and idle habits, will certainly succeed in another situation, though perhaps more slowly, as they may be influenced by a less genial climate, or a more barren soil.

Song for the metai, or for medicine hunting.