Nor the full extent of the
requirements and application of the law of Christian love. These
imperfect views may not be entertained by all Christian Indians, but
they were very common amongst those with whom I conversed. Their
ignorance upon theological, as well as upon other subjects, is, of
course, extreme. One Indian asked me very innocently if I came from
the land where Christ was born, and if I had ever seen Jesus. They
always mention the name of the Persons in the Trinity with great
reverence.
They are a highly imaginative people. The practical meaning of their
names, and their intense admiration for the beauties of Nature, are
proof of this. Nothing escapes their observing eyes. There is not a
flower that blooms in the wilderness, a bird that cuts the air with
its wings, a beast that roams the wood, a fish that stems the water,
or the most minute insect that sports in the sunbeams, but it has an
Indian name to illustrate its peculiar habits and qualities. Some of
their words convey the direct meaning of the thing implied - thus,
che-charm, "to sneeze," is the very sound of that act; too-me-duh,
"to churn," gives the noise made by the dashing of the cream from
side to side; and many others.
They believe in supernatural appearances - in spirits of the earth,
the air, the waters. The latter they consider evil, and propitiate
before undertaking a long voyage, by throwing small portions of
bread, meat, tobacco, and gunpowder into the water.
When an Indian loses one of his children, he must keep a strict fast
for three days, abstaining from food of any kind. A hunter, of the
name of Young, told me a curious story of their rigid observance of
this strange rite.
"They had a chief," he said, "a few years ago, whom they called
'Handsome Jack' - whether in derision, I cannot tell, for he was one
of the ugliest Indians I ever saw. The scarlet fever got into the
camp - a terrible disease in this country, and doubly terrible to
those poor creatures who don't know how to treat it. His eldest
daughter died. The chief had fasted two days when I met him in the
bush. I did not know what had happened, but I opened my wallet, for
I was on a hunting expedition, and offered him some bread and dried
venison. He looked at me reproachfully.
"'Do white men eat bread the first night their papouse is laid in
the earth?'
"I then knew the cause of his depression, and left him."
On the night of the second day of his fast another child died of
the fever. He had now to accomplish three more days without tasting
food. It was too much even for an Indian. On the evening of the
fourth, he was so pressed by ravenous hunger, that he stole into
the woods, caught a bull-frog, and devoured it alive. He imagined
himself alone; but one of his people, suspecting his intention,
had followed him, unperceived, to the bush. The act he had just
committed was a hideous crime in their eyes, and in a few minutes
the camp was in an uproar. The chief fled for protection to Young's
house. When the hunter demanded the cause of his alarm, he gave for
answer, "There are plenty of flies at my house. To avoid their
stings I came to you."
It required all the eloquence of Mr. Young, who enjoyed much
popularity among them, to reconcile the rebellious tribe to their
chief.
They are very skilful in their treatment of wounds, and many
diseases. Their knowledge of the medicinal qualities of their plants
and herbs is very great. They make excellent poultices from the bark
of the bass and the slippery elm. They use several native plants in
their dyeing of baskets and porcupine quills. The inner bark of the
swamp-alder, simply boiled in water, makes a beautiful red. From the
root of the black briony they obtain a fine salve for sores, and
extract a rich yellow dye. The inner bark of the root of the sumach,
roasted, and reduced to powder, is a good remedy for the ague; a
teaspoonful given between the hot and cold fit. They scrape the fine
white powder from the large fungus that grows upon the bark of the
pine into whiskey, and take it for violent pains in the stomach.
The taste of this powder strongly reminded me of quinine.
I have read much of the excellence of Indian cookery, but I never
could bring myself to taste anything prepared in their dirty
wigwams. I remember being highly amused in watching the preparation
of a mess, which might have been called the Indian hotch-potch. It
consisted of a strange mixture of fish, flesh, and fowl, all boiled
together in the same vessel. Ducks, partridges, muskinonge, venison,
and muskrats, formed a part of this delectable compound. These were
literally smothered in onions, potatoes, and turnips, which they had
procured from me. They very hospitably offered me a dishful of the
odious mixture, which the odour of the muskrats rendered everything
but savoury; but I declined, simply stating that I was not hungry.
My little boy tasted it, but quickly left the camp to conceal the
effect it produced upon him.
Their method of broiling fish, however, is excellent. They take
a fish, just fresh out of the water, cut out the entrails, and,
without removing the scales, wash it clean, dry it in a cloth, or
in grass, and cover it all over with clear hot ashes. When the
flesh will part from the bone, they draw it out of the ashes, strip
off the skin, and it is fit for the table of the most fastidious
epicure.
