128 



UNITED STATES. 



A Chippeway makes a feast for the dead, a feast called for by dreams, a feast for his " medi- 

 cine," or charms, and a boy's feast, held when a youth has killed the first animal. They have 

 fasts also, and by many praises encourage their children to abstain from food for several days. 

 This inures them to what they are sometimes compelled by necessity to endure. The Chippe 

 ways are distributed into families rather than into tribes, from the nature of the country where 

 they dwell. Between them and the Sioux there is constant and irreconcileable hatred. 



The Chippeways subsist principally on fish and wild rice. The Baptist Missionary Society 

 has been the means of leading many of them into a better kind of life, and of instructing them 

 at the same time in a better creed, and better arts and pursuits. They entertain, like most of 

 the Indians, a belief in a Supreme Being, the " Master of Life," but they have little concep- 

 tion of a moral accountability. Polygamy is common. They have no marriage ceremony. 

 The preliminaries are generally settled by relations of the parties ; in the absence of the man, 

 these bring the bride to his hut, where he finds her, and sits down, or walks away, as he would 

 express approbation or dissent. The dead are buried deep, as much as eight feet, while 

 the Sioux barely cover them. The bodies of chiefs are wrapped in blankets or bark, and 

 raised on platforms. For several nights after an interment, fire is placed upon the grave * The 



make it hard, and walk over upon its surface. I have 

 only to speak and bid the waters be still, and touch them 

 with my fing'er, and they become hard as stone. The 

 t ""ad of my foot makes soft things hard; and my power 

 ib Donndless ! ' 



" The young inan, feeling still colder, and growing 

 tired of the old man's boasting, and morning being nigh, 

 as seen by the rosy tints in the east, said, ' Now, my 

 friend, I wish to speak.' ' Speak,' said the old man, 

 'my ear, though it be old, is open, it can hear.' ' I go,' 

 said the young man, ' over all ihe earth too. I have seen 

 it covered with snow, and the waters I have seen hard; 

 but I have only passed over them, and the snow has 

 melted; the mountain rivulets have begun to run, the 

 rivers to move, and the ice to melt ; the eartli has become 

 ;^reen under my tread, the flowers blossomed, the birds 

 ^'ere joyful, and all that you have referred to, as being pro- 

 di'ced by your power, has vanished ! ' 



" The old man fetched a deep sigh, and, shaking his 

 hea !, said, ' I know thee, thou ait Spring I ' ' True,' said 

 the voung man, ' and here, behold niy head; see it 

 crow: ed with flowers ; and my cheeks, how they bloom; 

 come i,ear and touch me. Thou,' exci'aimed the young 

 man, ' art Winter ! 1 know tliy power is great; but thou 

 darest not come to my country. Thy beard would fall 

 off. and all thy strength would fail, and thou wouldst die.' 

 Tlie old man felt the truth of the remark, and before the 

 morning was fully come he was seen vanishing away. 

 But each, before they parted, expressed his hope that they 

 might meet again." 



* A small war party of Chippeways encountered their 

 enemies upon an open plain, v/here a severe battle was 

 fought. Their leader was a brave and distinguished war- 

 rior, but he never acted with greater bravery, or distin- 

 guished himself for greater personal prowess, than now. 

 After turning the tide of battle acrainst his enemies, and 

 wliile shoutinnf for victory, he received an arrow in his 

 breast, and fell dead upon the plain. No warrior thus 

 killed is ever buried ; and, according to ancient custom, 

 he was placed in a sitting posture upon the field, his back 

 supported by a tree, and his face toward the course in 

 which their enemies had fled. His head dress and equip- 

 ments were accurately adjusted, as if living, and his bow 

 leaned against his shoulder. In this posture his cora- 

 panicns left him. A fate, which appeared so evident to 

 all, proved, however, deceptive in the result. Although 

 deprived of the power of utterance and the ability to 

 move, he heard distinctly all that had been said by his 

 friends. lie heard them liniipnt his death, without the 

 power of contradicting it; and he felt their touch, as they 

 adjusted his posture, without the strength to reciprocate 

 it. His anguish, when he felt Iiimself thus abandoned, 

 was raised to the extreme ; and his wish to follow his 

 friends on their return so com])letely filled his mind, when 

 he saw them, one after another, take leave of the corpse 

 and depart, that, after making a violent exertion, he arose, 



or seemed to himself to rise, and follov/ them. But his 

 form was invisible to them ; and tliis gave new cause for 

 the surprise, disappointment, and rage, which alternately 

 filled his breast. He followed their track, however, with 

 great diligence. Wherever they went, he went; when 

 they ran, he ran ; when Ihey encamped, he encamped ; 

 when they slept, he slept; when they awoke, he awoke. 

 In short, he mingled in all their labors and toils; but he 

 was excluded from all their sources of refreshment, ex- 

 cept that of sleeping, and from Ihe pleasures of partici- 

 pating in their conversation, for all that ho said was un- 

 attended to. 



" Is it possible," he exclaimed, " that you do not see 

 me, that you do not hear me, that you do not understand 

 me.' will you suffer me to bleed to death, without offering 

 to staunch my wounds .'' will you permit me to starve in 

 the midst of plenty have those whom I have so often led 

 to war, so soon forgotten me.'' is there no one who recol- 

 lects me, or who will offer me a morsel of food in my dis- 

 tress ? " Thus he continued to upbraid his friends at every 

 stage of the journey, but no one seemed to hear his words ; 

 or if they heard his voice they mistook its sound for the 

 winds of summer, rustling among the green leaves. 



At length the returning war party reached their village ; 

 and their women and children came out, according to 

 custom, to welcome their return and proclaim their praises. 

 Kumaudjeewug ! Kumaudjeewug ! Kumaudjeewug ! 

 They have met, fought, and conquered, was shouted from 

 every mouth, and resounded through the most distant 

 parts of the village. Those who had lost friends came 

 eagerly to inquire their fate, and to know whether they 

 had died like men. The decrepit father consoled himself 

 for the loss of his son, with the reflection that he had 

 fallen manfully, and the widow half forgot her sorrow 

 amid the praises that were uttered of the bravery of her 

 departed husband. The breasts of the youths glowed 

 with martial ardor as they heard these flattering praises ; 

 and children joined in shouts of which they scarcely knew 

 the meaning. But amidst all this uproar and bustle no 

 one seemed conscious of the presence of the wounded 

 warrior chief. He heard many inquiries of his own fate; 

 he heard them relate how he had fought, conquered, and 

 fallen with an arrow pierced through his breast, and that 

 his body had been lefl among the slain. 



" It is not true," replied the indignant chief with a loud 

 voice, "that I was killed and left upon the field. I am 

 here ! I live ! I move 1 See me ! Touch me ! I shall 

 again raise my lance in battle, and sound my drum in the 

 feast." But nobody seemed conscious of his presence, 

 and Ihey mistook his loud voice for the whispering winds. 

 He now walked to his own lodge ; he saw his wife within 

 tearing her hair, and raising her lamentations over his 

 fate ; he endeavored to undeceive her, but she also seemed 

 equally insensible of his presence or his voice; she sat in 

 a despairing manner, with her head reclining upon her 

 hands ; he asked her to bind up his wounds, but she made 



