Buffalos discovered
After the dance, the master of ceremonies serves up the repast to the guests, seated in a circle. The food consists of dried buffalo meat and boiled maize, served in wooden plates, filled to the brim. Each one is bound to empty his plate, even should he expose himself to the danger of death from indigestion. The president offers a portion of the meat and maize to the Great Spirit, and places it accordingly upon the ground, and he then makes a similar offering to one of the buffalo heads, which is supposed to be a party to the feast. At length, while each one occupies himself with doing honor to his plate, one of the chiefs of the band rises up and announces to all the guests that the Master of life dances with him, and that he accepts the calumet and the feasting. All the band reply: “Néva! Néva! Néva!” This is the first condemnation.
{365} The repast ended, they again dance, after which the calumet is lighted the second time; and, as in the former instance, is offered to the Master of life and to the buffalo heads, upon which, the lodge again resounds with the triple cry, “Néva!” This last dance condemns, without appeal, the unfortunate victim whose immolation is invoked.
After all their grotesque dances, their cries, their chants and their vociferations, the savages, preceded by the musicians, go out of the lodge, to present the sacred calumet to the buffalo heads placed on the tops of the lodges of the village, each of which is ornamented with from two to eight heads, preserved as the trophies of their skill in the chase. At each puff the multitude raise a furious cry, for now the whole village joins in the extraordinary procession. They stop before the lodge of the Sioux girl, and make the air resound with the horrible imprecations against their enemies and against the unfortunate and innocent victim, who represents them on the present occasion. From this moment she is guarded by two old satellites, whose office it is to beguile her from the least suspicion that she is the victim for the coming sacrifice; and whose duty it also is to entertain {366} her upon the great feast, they prepare on the occasion in her honor, and that she may be well fed in order to appear more beautiful and fat, and thereby more agreeable to the Master of life. This ends the first day of the ceremonies.
On the second day, two old female savages, with dishevelled hair, their faces wrinkled and daubed with black and red paint, their naked arms and legs tattooed, barefooted, and with no other dress than a deer-skin petticoat, extending down to the knee—in a word, two miserable-looking beldams, capable of striking terror in any beholder,—issue from their huts with pipes in their hands, ornamented with the scalps which their husbands have taken from their unhappy enemies. Passing through the village, they dance around each akkaro, solemnly announcing, “that the Sioux girl has been given to the Master of life by wise and just men, that the offering is acceptable to him, and that each one should prepare to celebrate the day with festivity and mirth.” At this announcement, the idlers and children of the village move about and shout with joy. They then, still dancing, re-conduct the two old squaws to their huts, before which they place their pikes as trophies, and enter.—All then {367} return to their own lodge, to partake of the feasts of their relatives.
About ten o’clock in the morning of the third day, all the young women and girls of the village, armed with hatchets, repair to the lodge of their young and unhappy captive, and invite her to go into the forest with them to cut wood.—The simple-hearted, confiding child, accepts their malicious invitation with eagerness and joy, happy to breathe once more the pure air.—They then give her a hatchet, and the female troop advance towards the place marked out in the dance, making the forest resound with shouts of joy. Atipaat, an old squaw who conducted them, designates, by a blow of the hatchet, the tree which is to be cut down. Each then gives it one blow, after which the victim approaches to complete the work. As soon as she commences what seems to her but pastime, the whole crowd of young furies surround her, howling and dancing. Unconscious that the tree is to supply the wood for her own sacrifice, the poor child pursues her work as if a great honor had been reserved for her.—Atipaat, the old woman, then fastens to her the ashki[353] with which to draw the wood.
{368} The troop then lead the way towards the village, dancing as they pass along, but giving the hapless victim almost no assistance in dragging her load. An innumerable multitude attend them to the place of sacrifice, and receive them with loud acclamations. They there relieve her of her burden and again place her in the hands of the guards, who, with voices harsh and quivering, chant the great deeds of their younger days and re-conduct her to her lodge. In the meantime the whole band assist to arrange the wood between two trees, after which they immediately disperse.
On the morning of the fourth day, before sunrise, a savage visits all the lodges to announce to each family, in the name of the Master of life, that they must furnish two billets of wood about three feet long for the sacrifice.
Then thirty warriors issue from their lodges, decked in all sorts of accoutrements; their heads adorned with deer and buffalo horns, with the tails of horses and the plumes of the {369} eagle and heron, interwoven with their scalp-locks, while the tails of wolves and wild cats stream from various parts behind, as the wings of Mercury are represented, with pendants hanging from their noses and ears, so elongated by the weight of the ornaments suspended to them, that they float about and strike against their shoulders.—Glass beads, or necklaces of brass or steel adorn their necks, while highly-ornamented deer-skin leggins and curiously-painted buffalo-skins, negligently thrown over their shoulders, complete their grotesque habiliments. Thus accoutred they present themselves at the hut of their captive, who is already adorned with the most beautiful dress their fancy can devise, or the materials at their command produce. Her head-dress is composed of the feathers of the eagle and swan, and descends behind in gracefully waving curves, even to the ground. Her person is properly painted with red and black lines. A frock of deer-skin descends to the knee, while a beautiful pair of leggins extend from thence to the ankle. A pair of moccasins garnished with porcupine quills, pearl and glass beads, are on her feet. Pendants hang from her ears and nose, a necklace ornaments her neck, and bracelets her arms; {370} nothing was spared that could add to her beauty.
Tranquillity and joy distinguishes her as she approaches the grand feast, which she has been made to believe her kind guardians have prepared to honor her. At the first cry of the warriors, the poor child comes out of the hut and walks at the head of her executioners, who follow in single file. As they pass along they enter into all the huts, where the most profound silence and the utmost propriety reign. The Sioux girl walks around the fire-place, her followers do the same, and, just as she leaves the lodge, the principal squaw gives her two billets of wood, which the unconscious victim gives in her turn to each of the savages. In this manner, when she has been made to collect all the wood to serve for her immolation, she takes her place in the rear of the band, joyous and content that she has had the happiness to contribute to the pleasure of her executioners; after which they again restore her to her two guards, to be presented with her last repast, which consists of a large plate of maize.
All now wait in anxious expectation to witness the last scene of the bloody drama. The whole village is in commotion. Everywhere {371} the warriors, old and young, may be seen preparing their murderous arrow, as upon the eve of a battle. Some practice shooting at a mark; the more barbarous, thirsting for the blood of their enemies, encourage and instruct their children in the use of the bow and arrow, and what part of the body they ought to strike.—The young women and girls devote themselves to clearing away the brushes and preparing the place of sacrifice, after the accomplishment of which, they employ themselves during the rest of that day and night in polishing their necklaces, pendants and bracelets, and all the other ornaments in which they wish to appear at the great feast.
On the fifth day, an aid-de-camp of Lechartetewarouchte, or the chief of sacrifice, ran through the village to announce, in the name of his master, the necessity of preparing the red and black paint, which is to serve for the grand ceremony. It is vain to attempt to give you, my dear sir, an adequate description of this personage, either as regards his costume, his figure, or his manner; it is everything that a savage can invent of the fantastic, the ridiculous and the frightful, united in one person. The collector of colors himself scarcely yields {372} to his comrade in monstrosity. He has the appearance of one, truly, just escaped from the infernal regions. His body is painted black, which, contrasted with the whiteness of his teeth and of his huge eyes, and with his hair besmeared with white clay, and bristling like the mane of a lion, gives him an aspect terrible and ferocious in the extreme. At each heel is fastened the tail of a wolf, and on his feet a pair of moccasins made of buffalo skin, with the long shaggy hair on the outside. He passes through the whole village with a measured step, holding a wooden plate in each hand. He enters the huts successively, and, as he approaches the fire-place, he cries aloud: “The Master of life sends me here.” Immediately, a woman comes and empties into one of his plates either some red or some black paint, which she had prepared. Upon the reception of which, he raises his eyes to heaven, and with a loud voice says: “Regard the love of thy children, O Tirawaat! However poor, all that they possess is thine, and they give it to thee. Grant us an abundant harvest. Fill our hunting-grounds with buffaloes, deer, stags and antelopes. Make us powerful against our enemies, so that we may again renew this great sacrifice.” {373} Each one replies by the usual exclamation: “Néva! Néva! Néva!”
After the return of the collector of colors, and before sunrise, the last scene commences. Men and women, boys and girls, daub themselves in all the colors and forms imaginable. They deck themselves in whatever they possess which in their estimation is either beautiful or precious—pearls, beads, porcelain collars, the claws of the white bear, (this is in their view the most costly and valuable decoration) bracelets and pendants; nothing is forgotten on this occasion. They ornament their hair with the feathers of the heron, and of the gray eagle, a bird superstitiously venerated by them. Thus equipped for their sortie, they listen attentively for the first signal to the sacrifice.
While these preparations are in progress, the Tewaarouchte, a religious band of distinguished warriors, known in the procession by the down of swans upon their hair or upon the tops of their heads, and by their naked bodies painted in red and black lines, follow the braves of the nation armed with their bows and arrows, which are sedulously concealed beneath their buffalo robes. Thus they approach the lodge where the unconscious victim awaits, as she thinks, {374} the happy moment for the festivities given in her honor, to commence. She is now delivered into the hands of her executioners, dressed in the beautiful costume of the previous day, with the addition of a cord tied to each ankle. The poor child is all interest and in a kind of impatience to participate in the grand festivities. She smiles as she looks round upon the most cruel and the most revengeful enemies of her race. Not the slightest agitation, fear, or suspicion, is visible in her manner. She walks with joy and confidence in the midst of her executioners. Arrived at the fatal spot, a frightful presentiment flashes across her mind. There is no one of her own sex present. In vain do her eyes wander from place to place, in order to find the evidences of a feast. Why that solitary fire? And those three posts, which she herself drew from the forest, and which she saw fastened between two trees, and those swarthy figures of the warriors, what can they mean? All, all indicate some dreadful project. They order her to mount the three posts. She hesitates, she trembles as an innocent lamb prepared for the slaughter. She weeps most bitterly and with a voice the most touching, such as must have broken any other hearts than those of these {375} savage men, she implores them not to kill her. With a persuasive tone they endeavor to convince her that their intention is not to injure her, but that the ceremonies in which she participates are indispensable before the grand feast. One of the most active of the savages unrolls the cords tied to her wrists and assists her to mount to the post. He passes the cords over the branches of the two trees, between which the sacrifice is to be made.
These are rendered firm by the powerful arms of the other savages, and her feet immediately fastened to the topmost of the three posts, which she had unconsciously cut and drawn to the fatal spot. On the instant all doubt of their intentions vanishes from her mind. The savages no longer conceal from her their frightful project. She cries aloud, she weeps, she prays; but her supplications, her tears and her prayers are alike drowned in the melée, and cry of their horrible imprecations against her nation.
Upon her innocent and devoted head they concentrate the full measure of their vengeance, of all the cruelties, of all the crimes, of all the injustice and cruelty of the Sioux, which may have taken place in their most cruel and protracted {376} wars, and which from time immemorial had been transmitted from father to son, as a precious heritage of vengeance and resentment. In a manner the most furious and most triumphant they exult with leaping and howling, like wild beasts, around their trembling victim. They then despoil her of all her ornaments and of her dress, when the chief of the sacrifice approaches and paints one-half of her body black and the other half red, the colours of their victims. He then scorches her armpits and sides with a pine-knot torch. After these preparatory rites, he gives the signal to the whole tribe, who make the air resound with the terrible war-cry of the Sassaskwi. At this piercing cry, which freezes the heart with terror, which paralyzes the timid and rouses the ardor of the brave, which confounds the buffalo in his course, and fills the bear with such fear as to take from him all the power of resisting or fleeing from his enemies, the savages, impatient and greedy for blood, issue from their dark lodges. Like a terrific hurricane they rush headlong to the fatal spot. Their cries, mingled with the noise of their feet, resemble the roar of thunder, increasing as the storm approaches. As a swarm of bees surround their queen, these Pawnee savages {377} encompass the Sioux child—their trembling victim. In the twinkling of an eye, their bows are bent and their arrows adjusted to the cords. The arrow of Lecharitetewarouchte, or chief of the sacrifice, is the only one which is barbed with iron. With this, it is his province to pierce the heart of the innocent Dakotha. A profound silence reigns for an instant among the ferocious band. No sound breaks the awful stillness save the sobs and piteous moans of the victim, who hangs trembling in the air, while the chief of the sacrifice makes a last offering of her to the Master of the universe. At that moment he transfixes her through the heart—upon the instant a thousand murderous arrows quiver in the body of the poor child. Her whole body is one shapeless mass, riddled with arrows as numerous as are the quills upon the back of the porcupine.
While the howling and the dancing continue, the great chief of the nation, mounting the three posts in triumph, plucks the arrows from the dead body and casts them into the fire. The iron-barbed arrow being the only one preserved for future sacrifices. He then squeezes the blood from the mangled flesh, upon the maize and other seeds, which stand around in baskets ready {378} to be planted; and then, as the last act of this cruel and bloody sacrifice, he plucks the still palpitating heart from the body, and, heaping the fiercest imprecations upon the enemies of his race, devours it amidst the shouts and screams of his people. The rite is finished. The haughty and satisfied savages move away from the scene of their awful tragedy; they pass the remainder of the day in feasts and merriment. The murdered and deformed body hangs where it was immolated, a prey to wolves and carnivorous birds. I will end this painful tragedy, by giving you an extract of a former letter.
“Such horrid cruelties could not but bring down the wrath of Heaven upon their nation. As soon as the report of the sacrifice reached the Sioux, they burned with the desire to avenge their honor, and bound themselves by oaths that they would not rest until they had killed as many Pawnees as their innocent victim had bones or joints in her body. More than a hundred Pawnees have at length fallen under their tomahawks, and their oaths have since been still more amply fulfilled in the massacre of their wives and children.
“In view of so much cruelty, who could mistake the agency of the arch enemy of mankind, {379} and who could refuse to exert himself to bring these benighted nations to the knowledge of the One only true Mediator between God and man, and of the only true sacrifice without which it is impossible to appease the Divine justice?”
With sentiments of respect and esteem,
I remain, my dear sir, yours, &c.
Peter J. De Smet, S. J.
To-day, 17th August, we pitched our tents upon the borders of a winding stream, in the heart of a wild, mountainous country, whose deep ravines and gloomy caverns are well suited for the dens of wild animals. Great as our expectations were of finding here abundance of game, they were not deceived. In less than an hour our hunters killed as many as twelve bears. During the night, an event of a far more serious nature occurred. The sudden firing of a gun roused us from slumber. Every warrior was on the alert; that shot could have proceeded from no hand save that of a “Black-Foot!” We looked at one another in silent anticipation. Who, then, had been the sufferer? The painful question was quickly answered. It was the {381} poor widow Camilla, one of the Sinpoil tribe.[354] The ball had passed through her throat, and she expired without a groan! Happily, her soul was ripe for Heaven. From the period of her first communion, she had never passed a Sunday without approaching the holy table, nor was her baptismal robe sullied by the slightest stain. The funeral obsequies were performed on the banks of Yellow-Rock River,[355] because that spot was better suited than any other to conceal her sepulchre from the avaricious Black-Foot assassin. All things work together for good to them that love God; this death, terrible, indeed, in the sight of men, but precious in the eyes of the Lord, became the source of a good work. The murdered woman left two daughters, both very young; had her life been spared, she would not, perhaps, have been able to shield their innocence from the dangers to which it would have been exposed; but, now, they were immediately adopted by Ambrose, chief of the Flat-Heads, and father of a numerous family; in his noble heart, charity, piety, and confidence in God, go hand-in-hand with his courage.
At the distance of a few gun-shots from Yellow-Rock, the buffaloes made their appearance. {382} One of them plunged into the river to avoid the death which threatened him, swam rapidly down the current, then suddenly tacked about to escape his pursuers; and, finally, exhausted by his efforts, unable longer to contend with his fate, came out of the river, and stretched himself upon the turf at the entrance of our camp, where his presence caused no other mischief than that of exciting the mirth of the women and children.
Farther on, two bears were seen making their way through the bushes. The young people, who were the first to perceive them, announced their discovery by loud yells. Immediately, a Black-Foot, a friend of the Flat-Heads, sprang forward with the intention of giving the first blow to the common enemy; but the sagacious animal, anticipating his design, rushed from his lair, and fastened his enormous claws on the uplifted arm of the young Indian, whose situation would have been desperate, had not a Flat-Head come to his assistance. A few days after, another converted Black-Foot, finding himself in the same circumstances, and wishing to show that he knew better than his comrade how to kill bears, went {383} about it in the same manner, and shared the same fate; a punishment which his temerity richly deserved.
A Prayer for success in hunting.
Whilst we were encamped in this place, several chiefs of the Corbeaux tribe came to visit the Flat-Heads, accompanied by the flower of their young warriors. They spoke with enthusiasm of the visit their nation had received from a Black-gown in 1842, and expressed great desire for the time to come when they, like the Flat-Heads, would enjoy the privilege of having Black-gowns always with them, to instruct them in heavenly things. They still observe the superstitious practices of the calumet. To render the odor of the pacific incense agreeable to their gods, it is necessary that the tobacco and the herb (skwiltz), the usual ingredients, should be mixed with a small quantity of buffalo’s dung, and that the great pipe, after having gone round the lodge, should re-commence the circuit as soon as it arrives at the opening, without which ceremony they imagine it would be useless to smoke with their brethren, or incense, as they do, the heavens, earth, four cardinal points, and medals of Washington and Jackson.
Nothing but misfortunes could await them. {384} Whilst they remained with us, we buried a Pend-d’Oreille Indian, who had died shortly after baptism, strengthened by all the sacraments of the church. This ceremony, which was performed with more than ordinary pomp in honor of the visitors, was concluded by the solemn erection of the cross on the grave of the deceased. May the remembrance of these last duties paid to a departed child of the church, increase in the hearts of the Corbeaux the desire of knowing Him, without the knowledge of whom there is no salvation. The following day they returned to their own camp.
The Pierced-Noses were now on their way to their own country; the Flat-Heads, on the contrary, were still in pursuit of game; for, although the season was far advanced, they had not yet commenced to lay in their winter provisions. Early the following morning, we struck our tents and resumed our march. We had not proceeded far, when our attention was attracted by a herd of buffaloes quietly feeding in the beautiful valley at our feet. They were so numerous, that each of the hunters killed several. The slaughter of these animals was but the prelude of that which was to take place on the following days. Our hunters brought in {385} game in abundance. On one occasion, they returned laden with the spoils of 344 fat cows. We encamped in the very heart of the Black-Foot territory, yet the howling of wolves and bears, calling one another to their nocturnal repast, was the only sound that disturbed our repose. The hunting season is a time of rest for the missionary, of intimate union with his God, of renovation for his soul! It was in this spirit I received, with humble gratitude, the short but severe illness with which I was visited at this period. I regarded it, likewise, as sent me in punishment for the too natural pleasure I felt in contemplating the strange and varied scenes by which I was surrounded. During our encampment in this spot, I had the consolation of baptizing ten adults.
An unexpected fall of snow warned us that it was time to think of our return. The chief accordingly gave orders for all to be in readiness to set out the following day. The weather was clear, but intensely cold; and, suffering as I still was, from the effects of my recent illness, I had great difficulty in supporting its severity. We were, however, soon cheered by milder days, and warmer sunshine. Our young hunters were, once more, all animation. The pleasures {386} of the chase were resumed as far as the good order necessary for the homeward march would permit. Even the children caught the general spirit, and bounded off in pursuit of some smaller animal, which the elated winner of the race never failed to bring back on his shoulder.
We were now entering the defile where we had before met with such brilliant success. At almost every step we fell in with some straggler. At one time, an old decrepit buffalo; at another, a fat cow, and sometimes a playful calf, whose dam had already fallen a victim. These animals were an easy prey, and their capture was a new source of sport for the boys.
On the 28th I retired to the summit of a neighboring mountain, to read the vespers of St. Michael. The atmosphere was unusually serene; not a sound disturbed the silence of nature. I gazed on the quiet beauty of the scene, hushed, as it were, in the presence of God, and my heart dilated at the thought of the thousands of unconverted Indians, buried in the darkness of idolatry. Full of these thoughts, I raised my eyes, and, excited as my imagination was, it seemed to me that I beheld the archangel, Michael, standing on the opposite mountain, exclaiming, “Deluded nations! Who is {387} like unto God?” The voice resounded through the forests—it was echoed by the deep ravines. I fancied it was heard and understood by the wild children of the woods; their responding shouts rung in my ear. Yielding to the enthusiasm of my feelings, I hastily quitted my elevated position, and erected a wooden cross on the summit of a neighboring eminence. Some days after, a hunter discovered, near the half-consumed embers of an extinguished fire, a similar cross, to which a banner was attached. My first thought was, that it had been planted there by some Catholic, who had lost his way in the forest, and been devoured by the wolves. The Flat-Heads, however, well acquainted with the practices of their ancient foes, the Black-Feet, informed me that it was a custom among them to erect these crosses to the moon, in order to render her favorable to the robbery or chase, in which they were about to engage. This information dispelled the pleasing fancies in which I had indulged; and painfully reminded me that the God-Saviour is yet far from being adored in these wild abodes. May we not hope that the time will yet come, when the banner of the true cross will wave triumphant o’er this benighted land!
{388} The obstacles which have hitherto prevented the missionaries from penetrating into the Black-Feet territory are now beginning to disappear, and there is every prospect of our soon being able to commence the glorious work of their conversion.
The next day we entered a mountain pass, where the foot of man had seldom trodden, as was proved by the fact, that fifteen beavers were taken in one night by three hunters. After following for some time the circuitous windings of the ravine, we came to an ascent so slippery, that at every instant I was in anticipation of some sad catastrophe. Presently a sumpter-horse missed his footing and fell, rolling down the precipice. Who, that had seen him fall from rock to rock, would ever have thought, that in a few minutes he would be journeying on, laden as before! Without uttering a single word, the guide made her way through the deep snow to the spot where the poor animal lay, unloaded him, raised him from the ground, replaced his burden, and brought him back to the rear of the troop.
We continued our route until sunset, along the mountain’s summit; at length, after a forced march of ten hours, we pitched our tents on a {389} beautiful island, where we enjoyed both security and repose. Surrounded by the waters of the Missouri, and abounding in rich pastures, this charming spot seems, as it were, destined by nature as a place of rest for the wearied traveller.
It would have been impossible to contemplate without admiring the loveliness of the landscape. From the southern coast of the river arose a ridge of mountains, whose varied colors of blue, red, green, and yellow, gave them a striking appearance; the effect of which was heightened by a small stream, leaping from rock to rock, in the form of a cascade, cooling the parched ground, insinuating itself into the crevices of the rocks, and giving birth to an infinite variety of creeping plants, and flowering shrubs.—The island itself is beautiful beyond description. The scenery is diversified by groups of the majestic buttonball, which, in this country, is the giant of the vegetable kingdom. It was under the shade of one of these noble trees that our hunters prepared to celebrate the feast of the Maternity. The sun’s last rays had long disappeared beneath the horizon, ere all was ready for the evening prayer. After which, notwithstanding the fatigues of the day, a large {390} fire was kindled before my tent, and the greater part of the night consecrated by these fervent children of the woods, to the reconciliation of their souls with God. The following day the Holy Sacrifice was celebrated with as much solemnity as the circumstances would permit. Of the ninety persons who then approached the table of the Lord, there was not one, who, since the departure from St. Mary’s, had not communicated every month. Several had enjoyed that happiness each week. During the evening office nothing particular occurred. The eve of my departure the mothers brought their young children to receive my blessing; and the chiefs erected a cross in token of their gratitude for the favors received during the hunting season. To this latter circumstance the island is indebted for the beautiful name of St. Croix.
The following day I bade farewell to my dear neophytes; and, after joining in prayer with them for the last time, I set out on my return to St. Mary’s.
N. Point, S. J.
BY REV. P. N. POINT
We shall see what gave occasion to these remarkable words uttered by thirty-seven Black-Feet, who had fallen into the hands of the Flat-Heads.
It is rare, at present, to find any Black-Feet, even among the most vicious tribes, who are not convinced that the Black-gowns desire their happiness.
The following observations clearly prove my proposition: 1, the kind reception they gave the Black Robe who was taken by sixty of their warriors: 2, the attention with which they listened to the Rev. Mr. Thibault, a Canadian priest, who fell in with a large company of them at Fort Augusta,[356] on the River Sascatshawin: 3, sending back to St. Mary’s, a horse belonging to a Flat-Head missionary; a circumstance {392} hitherto unheard of, in the relations of the Black-Feet with the Flat-Heads; 4, the confidence which several have manifested in the missionaries, on many remarkable occasions; 5, the smoking of the calumet in the plain of the Great Valley, with a small number of Flat-Heads whom they might have killed without difficulty; 6, the amicable visits they have paid the Flat-Heads by the persuasion of the hoary chief Nicholas, (baptized,) and the habitual residence of several of the tribe at the village of St. Mary’s; 7, the plunder of horses is incomparably more rare than during the preceding years; 8, the four years’ cessation of any serious attack; though, formerly, not a hunting party passed without a sanguinary battle with the Flat-Heads. In proof of this, remember the sixty-five battles of old Paulin. If we add to all this, the providential and admirable circumstance which occurred during the chase, and which we purpose relating, surely, it may be permitted to form the brightest prospects relative to the religious conquest of this numerous tribe; and I sincerely hope that an occurrence, which lately took place at St. Mary’s, will contribute much to realize my desires.
{393} The 2d or 3d February, during the night, the dogs barked—a pistol-shot was heard—a mournful silence ensues! A thief, doubtless, had been wounded. The following morning, marks of blood could be traced as far as the river, which led to the conclusion that the robber had perished in the waves; but, three days since, George Sapime, whilst duck-shooting, found the suffering being among some bushes, so exhausted by loss of blood that he could scarcely stand. George might easily have despatched him on the spot, according to the savage custom; but he thought it better to return to the village and take counsel as to what seemed most expedient to be done with the hapless desperado. At this intelligence, numbers of Indians mount their horses and gallop off, full armed, to the spot indicated. Whilst this was being transacted, the incident was related to Father Mengarini. Pelchimo and Ambrose, two really brave Flat-Heads,[357] who communicated the intelligence, thought it base to kill a dying man. The zealous missionary conceived an ardent desire to secure the salvation of the culprit, by pouring on his soul the saving waters of regeneration. Pelchimo, seconding the good design, flies to the place, and arrives at the very instant when the {394} pistols were cocked to terminate the prisoner’s existence. “Stop!” vociferates the feeling Pelchimo. At this word the execution is suspended, and an hour after, the Black-Foot enemy and robber is tended, in the chieftain’s lodge, with all the kindness that could be lavished on a noble and much-loved sufferer.
Father Mengarini, after having dressed his wounds, spoke to him of God, and his judgments: the sick man answered, that it was the first time he had heard these great truths. Such a reply, made the father cherish the hope of saving his soul; and, also, of contributing, by means of this man, to the designs of mercy, which, it seemed, the Almighty God had towards this terrible nation. “Brethren,” said he, addressing the assembled chiefs, “during four years the Black-gowns have been among you, and each day have they spoken to you of God. You know well that His divine Son not only died on the cross for all men, but even pardoned his enemies, and prayed for his executioners, to teach us how we should act in the like occasions. An enemy has fallen into your hands—remember, he has a soul like yours, redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ, and destined to sing eternally the divine mercy of your Saviour! {395} What shall be done with this man? Is he to live, or must he die?” “Let him live,” answered every tongue. Overjoyed to find their hearts so replete with compassion, the Black-gown was expressing his satisfaction to the assembled tribe, when he was told that some obscure savages, of a different tribe, were not of the same opinion as the generous chieftains who surrounded him. This information induced the father to take a different tone; and addressing the murmurers, he thus spoke: “Brethren! when we pardon a foe, we imitate the ordinary conduct of God towards men. Who, among you, has not sinned during his life? And how often has God forgiven you? If, instead of forgetting your multiplied offences, the Almighty had placed your souls in the power of your infernal enemy, what would now be your fate? But no; God has not treated you thus; he has sent his ministers among you,—numbered you among his children, and promised heaven to your fidelity and compassion for the unfortunate; and who knows, if this signal favor may not depend on the generosity you exercise towards your enemy? The blood of Jesus Christ pleads for mercy in his behalf. Already have your chiefs pronounced his pardon. Will you imitate their {396} noble conduct? Ah! if you refuse, take your knives and bury them in your enemy’s heart! But, from that instant, call not God your Father; cease saying to Him: ‘forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us;’ for, our Common Father might hear your prayer, but, it would be for your eternal reprobation.” This brief but energetic appeal caused such sensation throughout the auditory, that every one approved the first decision. From that moment the entire village of St. Mary’s, with the exception of a few malicious hearts, shared in the generous sentiments of the Flat-Head chiefs. Selpisto, a chieftain of the Pends-d’Oreilles, happened to be, at this time, at St. Mary’s. He took the Black-Foot under his protection, and when he recovered from his wounds, loaned him a horse to return to his country; and he even redoubled his attention at the moment when he received the news that one of his sons had fallen a sacrifice to the Black-Feet. When the youth was met by his enemies, he was returning in triumph to St. Mary’s, with the horses recently stolen from the village. His bravery had forced the robbers to return them; this circumstance rendered his loss a still greater affliction to his family. The return of the Black-Foot, so {397} honorably dismissed, and the relation he gave the tribe of the mercy exercised towards him, caused his nation to look upon the Flat-Heads in a different light. “I am very glad,” wrote Father Mengarini, “that this affair terminated amicably. I trust that the future will prove, that the Almighty, after having exercised mercy towards this unfortunate sinner, has also particular graces in reserve for this perfidious and benighted nation, which I hope, is destined to receive the light of the gospel. Should any fathers be named to this mission, I should be too happy to be of their number.”
To whom are the Black-Feet indebted for a change so consoling, both to religion and humanity? Next to Almighty God, we may safely say, they owe it to the admirable conduct of the Flat-Heads, especially since the residence of the missionaries among the tribe. Some remarkable instances of virtue were exhibited during the hunting season.
On quitting St. Mary’s our pious neophytes added some short invocations to their morning and evening prayers; 1, to the Heart of Jesus, as protector of the men’s confraternity; 2, to the blessed Virgin, patroness of the women’s sodality; 3, to St. Michael, model of the brave; {398} 4, to St. Raphael, the guide of travellers; 5, to St. Hubert, the patron of hunters; 6, to St. Francis Xavier, for the conversion of idolaters. We shall see, that these pious aspirations were not addressed to Heaven in vain.
The eve preceding the anniversary of St. Francis Xavier’s canonization, the missionary administered baptism to a Black-Foot, whose example induced many others to solicit the like favor. The reception of the holy sacraments of penance and eucharist, was very frequent. There were 430 confessions, (children included), 350 communions, 103 of which took place the last Sunday. Only one person was left, in the camp; he having recently made his first communion, did not renew it during the chase; whereas, his companions approached two or three times, and some, even more frequently. The pious practice of saying the Angelus, reciting the Rosary, and singing canticles, was maintained throughout the camp. The chiefs displayed their zeal for every species of good; an unalterable patience was the distinguishing virtue of all, and this is saying much, if we consider the trials attending the hunting season. Their resignation to the Divine will, was strongly manifested. During twenty-four days they had {399} been toiling onwards, undergoing much suffering from a rigorous abstinence, when the news was spread that a herd of buffaloes had been seen in the environs. The Indians repaired thither, but it was to encounter a keen disappointment. Thus, the poor Flat-Heads found themselves constrained either to fast or seek food in the country of the Black-Feet. As their horses were in a better condition than those of the other tribes, they resolved to risk the dangerous expedient. Four days they traversed heights and floods: the weather was cold and snow lay on the ground; no animals were to be seen. At last, on Wednesday in Ember-week the missionary warned his little flock that the moment was propitious for addressing Heaven to implore the goods of earth; but, he added: “if you wish the Divine bounty to shed on you His gifts, you must promise not to abuse them.” His words were attended to with deep emotion, and each savage, according to the Indian expression, “Arranged his heart and began to pray.” The next morning, (Thursday), herds of cattle were seen in the neighborhood; and on Friday and Saturday so many were killed that their great number encumbered the lodges.
Already was the camp on its homeward {400} march, when, 12th March, the chief, reaching the top of a mountain which commanded an extensive view of the plain, suddenly stopped—and after gazing fixedly for some time, discovered moving objects at the verge of the horizon. At first, those around him imagined they saw buffaloes; next, they fancied they could discover a herd of deer; the final conclusion was, that an armed party of Black-Feet rapidly approached them. What was to be done? Victor, the chief, lost nothing of his usual presence of mind. He calmly quitted the head of the camp, mounted his horse, and making the animal perform a few evolutions, he was instantly surrounded by the bravest of his band. Isaac proposed prayer.—Victor exclaimed: “Let us wait until the Black-Feet show themselves yonder.” Saying these words, he pointed out a second mountain which concealed us. Never had any position offered more advantages. The Black-Feet were climbing the opposite side—they were already fatigued. Between the mountain and the chain which crowned the horizon extended an immense plain, without either tree, ravine or river that could offer them the least rampart. They were but thirty-seven in number, newly exercised in arms, and on foot. The Flat-Heads, on {401} the contrary, were on horseback, numbered fifty, in the flower of age, all well armed and conducted by chieftains whose shadow would put to flight more enemies than were now approaching. Besides, Victor was at their head; he who had never been conquered, and what is more, not even wounded, though six different times he had been encompassed by the Black-Feet. The marked protection of Heaven had thus manifested itself in his favor!
The enemy, then, could not escape them. All eyes were strained towards the spot indicated by the chief, expecting the approach of the foe. Victor judges that there is “periculum in mora;” he casts a smiling look on the missionary, raises his fire-arms, utters a yell, urges on his steed, and flies to the combat, followed by the bravest of the land. Perceiving their approach, the Black-Feet took to flight, casting away all that embarrassed them; but beholding themselves hemmed in on all sides, they endeavoured to rally; the Flat-Heads hasten towards them; Victor’s horse having been lately wounded, Fidele, Ambrose, Isaac, Ferdinand, and Emanuel, passed their chief, and arrived first in front of the enemy. Fidele spoke not; but his warrior name, signifying Thunderbolt, sufficiently {402} declared his courage. Ambrose announced him by that title, which causes the Black-Feet to turn pale, and added, in a terrible voice: “Fire not! If you fire you are dead men!” God spoke by his lips. Instead of firing, one of the Black-Feet threw down his gun, whilst several others extended their arms, in a supplicating attitude. The brave Ambrose refused not the pardon his enemies solicited; for true courage will never bathe itself in the blood of a conquered foe, who appeals for mercy, and whose conversion has been begged of Heaven. The generous warrior willingly extends his hand to the foe; and all, imitating his example, show that clemency has conquered. At this happy moment, when such Christian sentiments pervaded every heart, the Black-gown advanced, and the conquered foes offered him their hands, and, spreading a buffalo-skin on the snow, invited him to seat himself, and receive the honors of the calumet. Whilst the smoke of peace ascended towards heaven, presents were offered, and received, on both sides. The oldest of the Black-Feet band, seated on the left of the missionary, presented him a pair of Indian moccasins, and, strange to say, they were embroidered, with a blue cross standing out conspicuously {403} from the surrounding work. The poor idolater! did he, at that moment, think of the “quam speciosi pedes?” Most probably not; but, it is certain, he remarked the pleasure caused by his present, and felt an assurance, from the manner in which it was received, that, henceforward, all hearts would be united.
The Flat-Head camp set out on their return. The thirty-seven Black-Feet followed them. The thawing of the snow rendered the roads exceedingly bad, and the kind-hearted Flat-Heads, compassionating the fate of their new friends, did all they could to help them on their journey. Before separating, Victor conducted the principal Black-Feet into the missionary’s lodge, that he might witness their parting good friends; and, during half an hour, every thing was said that could strengthen the new-formed friendship between the tribes. The Black-Feet told us, that for some time past they had been expecting a Black-gown, and that, when he should come among them, he would be well received; that, henceforth, they and the Flat-Heads would live like brothers; “that the prayer of the Flat-Heads should be theirs.” And, although the sun had set, they assisted at prayers; after which, {404} they exchanged some tokens of friendship, and left, declaring that they were going to persuade their village to act as they had done.
The 19th March, feast of St. Joseph, seven days after the pardon so generously granted the Black-Feet, Heaven bestowed on us the fruit of our forbearance in the amicable visit of the grand chief of the “Petite Robe, Itchetles Melakas—or the three crows.” All the chiefs smoked with him under the missionary’s tent. Ambrose explained to him the Catholic Tree; Victor invited him to pass the night in his lodge. Such attention completely gained his heart; and the next morning the Black-Foot communicated to the missionary the resolution he had formed of soliciting the admission of his twenty-eight lodges among the Flat-Head tribe; and that he would repair to the village of St. Mary’s for that purpose, towards the decline of the present moon.
During the night of the 19th some of the Black-Feet, belonging to a distant tribe, stole into the camp of the Flat-Heads and carried off five horses; but one of the robbers fell, pierced with balls, and two strokes of the knife. It would be difficult to describe the horrors of that night! the {405} savage yells, mingled with the sound of thunder, and report of musketry. The miserable desperado, by the lightning’s glare, could be perceived on the ground, streaming torrents of blood from his wounds, and his unhappy soul about to quit the agonizing body, to find in eternity the chastisement due to its crimes. What else could the minister of God do, in such a circumstance, but pray the Father of Mercy to perform a miracle of grace in favor of the criminal.
The Flat-Heads have abolished the barbarous custom of reeking their vengeance on the mutilated body of their enemy. They even carry their generosity so far, as to give sepulture to all who die among them. The robber owed his grave to the bravest of the Flat-Heads, the chief of a numerous family, and the adopted father of two children, whom the Black-Feet have rendered orphans.
The following day offered nothing remarkable, if I except the many proofs of solid virtue displayed by the camp. To afford them pleasure, the missionary amused himself in his leisure hours tracing with a pen several historical facts, drawn from their annals, and suited to {406} their tastes; such as, march of the camp, divers occupations, labors of the chase, feats of arms, singular tragic scenes, religious ceremonies, &c., &c. It would be difficult to relate the pleasure this little collection gave them; and, what is still better, it contributed powerfully to raise the authority of the chieftains in the estimation of the young men, and to excite in them a noble emulation in the practice of good; for experience has clearly proved, both in civilized and uncivilized society, that this quality is not only a stimulus to noble actions, but a greater preventive of evil, than all chastisements united.
Human ingenuity is useful, but it can do little towards the salvation of souls, if it be not joined to fervent prayer. Every missionary should be convinced of this truth. Our pious neophytes have experienced the efficacy of frequent recourse to Heaven. Each day they had invoked the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and the Holy Heart of Mary; and the first Friday and Saturday of March proved the most successful hunting days. We had invoked the patron of hunters, and our chase was relatively fortunate. We had implored the protection of the glorious St. Michael, and never did our chiefs display greater valor {407} in the presence of the enemy. We had entreated the Apostle of the Indies to obtain the conversion of the Indians, and one party of Black-Feet falls under our power, whilst the other amicably visits us, and departs, exclaiming, “The prayer of the Flat-Heads shall be ours.” In fine, we had taken St. Raphael as our guide; our journey was long, fatiguing, and perilous, nevertheless, no serious accident occurred, though we often fell on the ice and rocks. Not a hunter in our camp was there who did not remark this manifest protection; and nearly all testified their gratitude to God by a fervent communion.
On Passion Sunday one hundred and three approached the holy table. The evening of so happy a day was crowned by the erection of a cross, to which they gave the name of Eugene, because the previous evening a quiver of that excellent Flat-Head, and a letter written on a piece of skin, after the Indian fashion, apprised us that he had been massacred in the neighborhood by a party of Banax. We then remembered, with consolation, that, on Ash Wednesday, a few days before his death, he came to see us, and during his stay received the holy communion. {408} Thus, all seemed to concur, even this death, in causing us to bless the Divine Bounty which ever watches with paternal care, to supply the necessities of his confiding children.
AD MAJOREM DEI GLORIAM
THE SIGN OF + THE CROSS