The American Indians Part 16

One night as he lay awake, reflecting on their condition, far away from their native fields, and in exile, he resolved to visit them, and bring them back to behold and to partic.i.p.ate in his abundance. To a common traveller, it would be a journey of twenty or thirty days, but Ma.s.swaweinini was at their lodge before daylight. He found them asleep, and took them up softly in his arms and flew away with them through the air, and brought them to his camp on the Manatolines, or Spirit's Islands. When they awoke, their astonishment was at its highest pitch; and was only equalled by their delight in finding themselves in their son's lodge, in their native country, and surrounded with abundance.

Ma.s.swaweinini went and built them a lodge, near the corn and wrestling plain. He then plucked some ears of the corn, and taking some of the pumpkins, brought them to his father and mother. He then told them how he had obtained the precious gift, by wrestling with a spirit in red plumes, and that there was a great abundance of it in his fields. He also told them of the precious canoe of the fairies, loaded with sacks of the most costly and valuable articles. But one thing seemed necessary to complete the happiness of his father, which he observed by seeing him repeatedly at night looking into his smoking pouch. He comprehended his meaning in a moment. "It is tobacco, my father, that you want. You shall also have this comfort in two days." "But where," replied the old man, "can you get it--away from all supplies, and surrounded by your enemies?" "My enemies," he answered, "shall supply it--I will go over to the Nadowas of the Bear totem, living at Penetanguis.h.i.+ne."

The old man endeavored to dissuade him from the journey, knowing their blood-thirsty character, but in vain. Ma.s.swaweinini determined immediately to go. It was now winter weather, the lake was frozen over, but he set out on the ice, and although it is forty leagues, he reached Penetanguis.h.i.+ne the same evening. The Nadowas discerned him coming--they were amazed at the swiftness of his motions, and thinking him somewhat supernatural, feared him, and invited him to rest in their lodges, but he thanked them, saying that he preferred making a fire near the sh.o.r.e.

In the evening they visited him, and were anxious to know the object of his journey, at so inclement a season. He said it was merely to get some tobacco for his father. They immediately made a contribution of the article and gave it to him. During the night they however laid a plot to kill him. Some of the old men rushed into his lodge, their leader crying out to him, "You are a dead man." "No, I am not," said Ma.s.swaweinini, "but you are," accompanying his words with a blow of his tomahawk, which laid the Nadowa dead at his feet. Another and another came, to supply the place of their fallen comrade, but he despatched them in like manner, as quickly as they came, until he had killed six. He then took all the tobacco from their smoking pouches. By this time, the day began to dawn, when he set out for his father's lodge, which he reached with incredible speed, and before twilight, spread out his trophies before the old man.

When spring returned, his cornfield grew up, without planting, or any care on his part, and thus the _maize_ was introduced among his people and their descendants, who have ever been noted, and are at this day, for their fine crops of this grain, and their industry in its cultivation. It is from their custom of trading in this article, that this tribe are called Ottowas.

CORN-PLANTING, AND ITS INCIDENTS.

The zea, mais, originally furnished the princ.i.p.al article of subsistence among all the tribes of this race, north and south. It laid at the foundation of the Mexican and Peruvian types of civilization, as well as the incipient gleamings of it, among the more warlike tribes of the Iroquois, Natchez, Lenapees, and others, of northern lat.i.tudes. They esteem it so important and divine a grain, that their story-tellers invented various tales, in which this idea is symbolized under the form of a special gift from the Great Spirit. The Odjibwa-Algonquins, who call it Mon-da-min, that is, the Spirit's grain or berry, have a pretty story of this kind, in which the stalk in full ta.s.sel, is represented as descending from the sky, under the guise of a handsome youth, in answer to the prayers of a young man at his fast of virility, or coming to manhood.

It is well known that corn-planting, and corn-gathering, at least among all the still _uncolonized_ tribes, are left entirely to the females and children, and a few superannuated old men. It is not generally known, perhaps, that this labour is not compulsory, and that it is a.s.sumed by the females as a just equivalent, in their view, for the onerous and continuous labour of the other s.e.x, in providing meats, and skins for clothing, by the chase, and in defending their villages against their enemies, and keeping intruders off their territories. A good Indian housewife deems this a part of her prerogative, and prides herself to have a store of corn to exercise her hospitality, or duly honour her husband's hospitality, in the entertainment of the lodge guests.

The area of ground planted is not, comparatively, large. This matter is essentially regulated by the number of the family, and other circ.u.mstances. Spring is a leisure season with them, and by its genial and reviving influence, invites to labour. An Indian female has no cows to milk, no flax to spin, no yarn to reel. Even those labours, which, at other seasons fall to her share, are now intermitted. She has apukwas to gather to make mats. Sugar-making has ended. She has no skins to dress, for the hunt has ended, the animals being out of season. It is at this time that the pelt grows bad, the hair becomes loose and falls off, and nature itself teaches the hunter, that the species must have repose, and be allowed a little time to replenish. Under these circ.u.mstances the mistress of the lodge and her train, sally out of the lodge into the corn-field, and with the light pemidge-ag akwut, or small hoe, open up the soft ground and deposit their treasured mondamin.

The Indian is emphatically a superst.i.tious being, believing in all sorts of magical, and secret, and wonderful influences. Woman, herself, comes in for no small share of these supposed influences. I shrewdly suspect that one half of the credit we have been in the habit of giving the warrior, on the score of virtue, in his treatment of captives, is due alone to his superst.i.tions. He is afraid, at all times, to spoil his luck, cross his fate, and do some untoward act, by which he might, perchance, fall under a bad spiritual influence.

To the wewun, or wife--the equa, or woman, to the guh or mother,--to the equazas, or girl, and to the danis, or daughter, and shema, or sister, he looks, as wielding, in their several capacities, whether kindred or not, these mystic influences over his luck. In consequence of this, the female never walks in the path before him. It is an unpropitious sign.

If she cross his track, when he is about to set out on a hunting, or war excursion, his luck is gone. If she is ill, from natural causes, she cannot even stay in the same wigwam. She cannot use a cup or a bowl without rendering it, in his view, unclean.

A singular proof of this belief, in both s.e.xes, of the mysterious influence of the steps of a woman on the vegetable and insect creation, is found in an ancient custom, which was related to me, respecting corn-planting. It was the practice of the hunter's wife, when the field of corn had been planted, to choose the first dark or overclouded evening, to perform a secret circuit, sans habilement, around the field.

For this purpose she slipt out of the lodge in the evening, un.o.bserved, to some obscure nook, where she completely disrobed. Then taking her matchecota, or princ.i.p.al garment in one hand, she dragged it around the field. This was thought to ensure a prolific crop, and to prevent the a.s.saults of insects and worms upon the grain. It was supposed they could not creep over the charmed line.

But if corn-planting be done in a lively and satisfied, and not a slavish spirit, corn-gathering and husking is a season of decided thankfulness and merriment. At these gatherings, the chiefs and old men are mere spectators, although they are pleased spectators, the young only sharing in the sport. Who has not seen, the sedate ogema in such a vicinage, smoking a dignified pipe with senatorial ease. On the other hand, turning to the group of nature's red daughters and their young cohorts, it may be safely affirmed that laughter and garrulity const.i.tute no part of the characteristics of civilization. Whatever else custom has bound fast, in the domestic female circle of forest life, the tongue is left loose. Nor does it require, our observation leads us to think, one tenth part of the wit or drollery of ancient Athens, to set their risible faculties in motion.

If one of the young female huskers finds a _red_ ear of corn, it is typical of a brave admirer, and is regarded as a fitting present to some young warrior. But if the ear be _crooked_, and tapering to a point, no matter what colour, the whole circle is set in a roar, and _wa ge min_ is the word shouted aloud. It is the symbol of a thief in the cornfield.

It is considered as the image of an old man stooping as he enters the lot. Had the chisel of Praxitiles been employed to produce this image, it could not more vividly bring to the minds of the merry group, the idea of a pilferer of their favourite mondamin. Nor is there any doubt on these occasions, that the occurrence truly reveals the fact that the cornfield has actually been thus depredated on.

The term wagemin, which unfolds all these ideas, and reveals, as by a talisman, all this information, is derived in part, from the tri-literal term Waweau, that which is bent or crooked. The termination in g, is the animate plural, and denotes not only that there is more than one object, but that the subject is n.o.ble or invested with the importance of animated beings. The last member of the compound, min, is a shortened sound of the generic meen, a grain, or berry. To make these coalesce, agreeably to the native laws of euphony, the short vowel i, is thrown in, between the verbal root and substantive, as a connective. The literal meaning of the term is, a ma.s.s, or crooked ear of grain; but the ear of corn so called, is a conventional type of a little old man pilfering ears of corn in a cornfield. It is in this manner, that a single word or term, in these curious languages, becomes the fruitful parent of many ideas. And we can thus perceive why it is that the word wagemin is alone competent to excite merriment in the husking circle.

This term is taken as the basis of the cereal chorus or corn song, as sung by the northern Algonquin tribes. It is coupled with the phrase Paimosaid,--a permutative form of the Indian substantive made from the verb, pim-o-sa, to walk. Its literal meaning is, he who walks, or the walker; but the ideas conveyed by it, are, he who walks at night to pilfer corn. It offers, therefore, a kind of parallelism in expression, to the preceding term. The chorus is entirely composed of these two terms, variously repeated, and may be set down as follows:

Wagemin, Wagemin, Paimosaid.

Wagemin, Wagemin, Paimosaid.

When this chant has been sung, there is a pause, during which someone who is expert in these things, and has a turn for the comic or ironic, utters a short speech, in the manner of a recitative, in which a peculiar intonation is given, and generally interrogates the supposed pilferer, as if he were present to answer questions, or accusations.

There can be no pretence, that this recitative part of the song is always the same, at different times and places, or even that the same person should not vary his phraseology. On the contrary, it is often an object to vary it. It is a perfect improvisation, and it may be supposed that the native composer is always actuated by a desire to please, as much as possible by novelty. The whole object indeed is, to keep up the existing merriment, and excite fun and laughter.

The following may be taken as one of these recitative songs, written out, on the plan of preserving the train of thought, and some of those peculiar interjections in which these languages so much abound. The chorus alone, it is to be observed, is fixed in its words and metre, however transposed or repeated, and, unlike an English song, precedes the stanza or narrative.

CORN SONG.

Cereal chorus. Wagemin! wagemin!

Thief in the blade, Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid.

Recitative. See you not traces, while pulling the leaf, Plainly depicting the TAKER and thief?

See you not signs by the ring and the spot, How the man crouched as he crept in the lot?

Is it not plain by this mark on the stalk, That he was heavily bent in his walk?

Old man be nimble! the old should be good, But thou art a cowardly thief of the wood.

Cereal Chorus. Wagemin! wagemin!

Thief in the blade, Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid.

Recitative. Where, little TAKER of things not your own-- Where is your rattle, your drum, and your bone?

Surely a WALKER so nimble of speed, Surely he must be a Meta[13] indeed.

See how he stoops, as he breaks off the ear, Nushka![14] he seems for a moment in fear; Walker, be nimble--oh! walker be brief, Hooh![15] If it is plain the old man is the thief.

Cereal chorus. Wagemin! wagemin!

Thief in the blade, Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid.

Recitative. Wab.u.ma![16] corn-taker, why do you lag?

None but the stars see you--fill up your bag!

Why do you linger to gaze as you pull, Tell me, my little man, is it most full?

A-tia![17] see, a red spot on the leaf, Surely a warrior cannot be a thief!

Ah, little night-thief, be deer your pursuit, And leave here no print of your dastardly foot.

[13] A Juggler.

[14] A sharp exclamation quickly to behold something striking.

[15] A derogatory exclamation.

[16] Behold thou.

[17] A masculine exclamation, to express surprise.

TO HEALTH.

BY THE LATE JOHN JOHNSTON, ESQ.

Health! dearest of the heavenly powers, With thee to pa.s.s my evening hours, Ah! deign to hear my prayer; For what can wealth or beauty give, If still in anguish doomed to live A slave to pain and care.

Not sovereign power, nor charms of love, Nor social joys the heart can move, If thou refuse thy aid; E'en friends.h.i.+p, sympathy divine!

Does, in thy absence, faintly s.h.i.+ne, Thou all-inspiring maid.

Return then, to my longing soul, Which sighs to feel thy sweet control Transfused through every pore; My muse, enraptured, then shall sing Thee--gift of heaven's all bounteous king, And gratefully adore.

_February 4, 1807._

DOMESTIC AND SOCIAL MANNERS OF THE INDIANS, WHILE ON THEIR WINTERING GROUNDS.