History of the Ojibway Nation/Chapter 18
CHAPTER XVIII.
GRAND EXPEDITION OF THE DAKOTAS TO THE SOURCES OF THE MISSISSIPPI, AGAINST THE OJIBWAYS.
After having given, in the two preceding chapters, a summary account respecting the affairs of the Ojibways, attendant on the change from the French to the British supremacy, we will once more return to the northwestern vanguard of the tribe, under the chief Bi-aus-wah, whom we left battling with the fierce Dakotas for the possession of the Upper Mississippi country.
As near as can be judged from their mode of computing time, by events, and generations, it is now[1] about eighty five years [1768] since the following events occurred, to that portion of the tribe who had located their village at Sandy Lake, and hunted about the sources of the Great River. The incidents to be related, resulted in a fierce battle between the warriors of the two contending tribes, at the confluence of the Crow Wing River with the Mississippi.
The most reliable account of this occurrence which the writer has been enabled to obtain, is that given by Esh-ke-bug-e-coshe, the venerable and respected chief of the northern Ojibways. He is one whose veracity cannot be impeached. He is between seventy and eighty years of age, and the tale having been transmitted to him by his grandfather Waus-e-ko-gub-ig (Bright Forehead), who acted as leader of the Ojibway warriors who fought in this action, his account can be implicitly relied on.
"The M'dé-wak-anton Dakotas, being at last obliged, from the repeated incursions of the Ojibways, to evacuate their grand villages at Mille Lacs and Knife Lake, now located themselves on Rum River. Smarting under the loss of their ancient village sites, and their best hunting grounds and rice lakes, they determined to make one more united and national effort to stem the advance of their troublesome and persevering enemies, and drive them back to the shores of Lake Superior.
Having for some years past been enjoying an active communion with the French traders, they had become supplied with fire-arms, and in this respect they now stood on the same footing with the Ojibways, who had long had the advantage over them, of having been first reached by the whites.
War parties formed at the different villages of the Dakotas, and met by appointment at the Falls of St. Anthony, where the ceremonies preceding the march of Indian warriors into an enemy's country being performed, the party, consisting of from four to five hundred men, embarked in their canoes, and proceeding up the Mississippi, reached, without meeting an enemy, the confluence of the Crow Wing River with the "Father of Rivers."
It was but a short time previous that they had possessed and occupied the country lying on and about the headwaters of the Mississippi, and being thus perfectly familiar with the route and portages from lake to lake, and the usual summer haunts of the Indian hunter, they determined to make the grand circuit by Gull, Leech, Cass, and Winnepegosish Lakes, and descending the Mississippi from its head, pick up the stray hunters and rice-gatherers of their enemy, and attack the village of the western Ojibways at Sandy Lake. Carrying this plan of their campaign into execution, the Dakotas ascended the Crow Wing and Gull Rivers into Gull Lake, from the northern extremity of which they made their first portage. Carrying their canoes about two miles, they again embarked on Lake Sibley; making another portage, they passed into White Fish, or Ud-e-kum-ag Lake, and through a series of lakes into Wab-ud-ow Lake, where they spilt the first Ojibway blood, killing a hunter named Wab-ud-ow (White Gore), from which circumstance the lake is named to this day by the Ojibways. From this place they passed into Gauss Lake, where again they massacred an unfortunate hunter with his wife and children. The tale of this transaction is briefly as follows:—
An Ojibway named Min-ah-ig-want-ig (Drinking Wood), was travelling about in his birch bark canoe, with his family, making his summer hunt. One evening, after dark, he arrived at Gauss Lake, where seeing a long line of fires lighting the shore, and supposing it to be the encampment of a war party of Rainy Lake Ojibways on their way to the Dakota country, he silently but confidently approached the shore to camp with them. On hearing, however, the language of their enemies spoken, he discovered his mistake, and quickly backing out, he entered the mouth of a little creek, and pushing his canoe into a clump of tall grass, or rushes, he and his family passed the night in the canoe, within plain hearing of the loud talking and singing of their enemies.
Towards morning the foolish hunter, placing his paddle upright behind his back to rest upon, fell asleep. On the first appearance of day, the Dakotas embarked, and one of their canoes passing close to the shore, noticed with an Indian's wariness and sagacity, the mark of a canoe through the grass and weeds at the entry of the little creek. One of the Dakotas arose in his canoe, and seeing the end of the upright paddle sticking up above the tall grass in the creek, he quietly informed his fellows, and the Ojibway, being surrounded, was surprised in his sleep—he and his family killed and scalped, with the exception of one child taken captive.
Much elated, the Dakota war party proceeded on their way, and at Little Boy, or Que-wis-aus Lake, they again attacked and killed three little boys, while engaged in gathering wild rice. Their parents, hearing the noise of the firing incident to the attack, made their escape. From this circumstance, this large and beautiful sheet of water has derived its Ojibway name of Que-wis-aus (Little Boy). The Dakotas passed into Leech Lake, and crossing over by a short portage into Cass Lake, they commenced their descent of the Mississippi. A short distance above the Falls of Puk-a-gum-ah, they again destroyed an Ojibway hunter and his family. On the banks of the river where this occurrence took place, the Dakotas made marks on the pine trees, which are still discernible to the eye of the traveller. The Ojibways call it Mun-zin-auk-wi-e-gun (tree picture marks).
Some distance below the Falls of Puk-a-gum-ah, they were met and discovered by two Ojibway hunters, in a birch canoe, who turned and fled down the river, warning their fellows as they went. The Dakotas made a warm pursuit, as they wished to attack the village of their enemies at Sandy Lake by surprise. The fleeing hunters, by making short portages across long bends of the river, left their pursuers some distance, and arrived at the Sandy Lake village during the night, but found a number of the bravest warriors gone on a war party down the Mississippi, and the remainder of the men of their village drinking "fire-water," which had been brought by a number of their fellows, who had just returned from their periodical summer visit to Sault Ste. Marie and Mackinaw. The alarm was given, and the drinking stopped, though many of the older men were already hors du combat through the effects of the liquor. Such as were able, prepared for defence.
One of the young hunters who had arrived to warn the village, having dropped a small looking glass, while crossing a short portage, which is sometimes made from the Mississippi into Sandy Lake, and it being in those days an article rare and much valued among them, he returned early in the morning to look for it. He went alone in his light birch canoe, but found the portage covered with the Dakotas who had been pursuing them. Some were crossing in their canoes, while the main body were making their way on foot to attack the Ojibway village by land. On being discovered, a hot pursuit in canoes was made after the young hunter by the Dakotas, and being single in his canoe, they fast gained on him. Making straight for an island which lies directly in front of the village, the young man landed, pulled his canoe across the island, and again embarking, paddled away for life. By this manoeuvre he gained a little on his pursuers, who were obliged to round the point of an island in their heavier canoes. The Dakotas, however, being full manned, caught up with and dispatched the fleeing hunter before he reached the main shore, and in full sight of the Ojibway village.
In the mean time, the party who were approaching to attack the village by land, discovered a party of Ojibway women, who were picking huckleberries, whom they surrounded and easily captured. These female captives, most of whom were young and unmarried, numbered thirty. The Dakotas then attacked the village, but such of the Ojibways as were sober, and had got over their drunken frolic, having made their preparations, manfully resisted the attack, till the drunken warriors, being brought to their sober senses by being frequently immersed in cold water by the women, increased the ranks of the defenders, and after a desperate struggle finally succeeded in causing the Dakotas to retreat, who returning to their canoes, embarked with their prisoners, and continued their course down the Mississippi, triumphing in the repeated blows they had inflicted on their enemies.
They were doomed, however, to run a severe gauntlet before reaching their villages, and to pay dearly for the temerity which had led them to proceed so far into the country which the Ojibways claimed as their own. A party of sixty Ojibway warriors had, a short time previous, left their village at Sandy Lake (as has been mentioned), and under the leadership of Waus-uk-o-gub-ig, a distinguished war-chief, they proceeded down the Mississippi in their birchen canoes, to the haunts of their enemies. Meeting with no success in their foray after scalps, they left their canoes in the enemy's country, and were returning home on foot, when, arriving at Crow Wing, they discovered the late encampment of the Dakotas, who were making the grand circuit of the northern country.
From the marks thus discovered, the Ojibways became satisfied that the enemy, who had gone up the Crow Wing River, would either soon return the same way, or come down the Mississippi, after having perhaps massacred their wives and children at Sandy Lake. They determined, therefore, to await their coming at the confluence of these rivers, and notwithstanding the apparent strength of their enemies, to give them battle.
About half a mile below the main mouth of the Crow Wing, and a few rods above Allan Morrison's present[2] establishment, or trading post, on the east side of the Mississippi, the river makes a curve, and the whole force of the current is thrown against the banks in the bend, which rise almost perpendicular from the water's edge, fifty feet high, and on the brow of which stands a few pine trees. Boats or canoes passing down the river are naturally drawn by the current immediately under this bank; and, with an eye to these advantages, the Ojibway warriors determined to post themselves here in ambuscade. They dug several holes along this bank, for two or three hundred feet, capable of holding eight or ten men each, in rows, from which, perfectly invisible to their passing enemy, and sheltered from their missiles, they intended to commence the attack.
Satisfied at the immense odds they would have to contend with, they made every preparation. Hunters were sent out to kill and dry meat suflicient to sustain the whole party for several days, and scouts were sent some distance above the river, to watch the first coming of their enemies.
One morning after their preparations had all been completed, one of their scouts, who had been sent about a mile up the Mississippi, and who was watching on the bank for the first appearance of the Dakotas, descended carelessly to the water's edge to drink. While lapping the water with his hand to his lips, looking up the river, he perceived a canoe suddenly turn a point of land above him. Instinctively he threw himself flat on the ground, and gradually crawled unperceived up the bank. When out of sight, on looking back, he saw the whole bosom of the river covered with the war canoes of those for whose coming he had been sent to watch. Seeing that he had not been noticed, he flew back to his comrades, who now prepared fully for the approaching conflict, by putting on their war paints and ornaments of battle.
Directly opposite the main mouth of the Crow Wing, on the spot where the American Fur Company's post is now[3] located, and in plain view of their ambuscade, the Ojibways saw their enemies disembark, and proceed to cook their morning meal. They saw the large group of female prisoners, as they were roughly pushed ashore, and made to build the fires and hang the kettles. Amongst them, doubtless, were their wives, daughters, or sisters. They saw the younger warriors of the enemy form in a ring, and dance, yelling and rejoicing, over the scalps they had taken. They saw all this, and burning with rage, they impatiently awaited the moment when their foes would come within range of their bullets and arrows. With difficulty the leader restrained his younger and more fool-hardy warriors from rushing forth to attack their enemies while engaged in their orgies.
Amongst the captives was an old woman, who at every encampment, had exhorted her fellows not to be cast down in their spirits, for their men who had gone on a war party would certainly, at some place, attack their captors, and in this case they must upset the canoes they were in, and swim for life to the shore from which their friends would make the attack. In this manner did she teach "her grandchildren," as she called them, to be prepared for a sudden onslaught.
The Dakotas, having finished their morning meal, and scalp-dancing, once more poured into their canoes. They floated down with the current in a compact mass, holding on to each other's canoes, while filling and lighting their pipes, and passing them from one to another, to be alternately smoked. Above them, dangling from the ends of poles, were the bloody scalps they had taken. In the foremost canoes were the war leaders, and planted before them were the war ensigns of feathers. After smoking out their pipes, the Jeen-go-dum[4] was uttered by the whole party, with a tremendous noise. The drums commenced beating, accompanied with yells and songs of triumph. Still moving in a compact flotilla, in full rejoicing, the force of the current at length brought them immediately under the deadly ambuscade of their enemies.
The moment had now come which the Ojibways had so long been aching for, and at the sound of their leader's war-whistle, they suddenly let fly a flight of bullets and barbed arrows into the serried ranks of the enemies, picking out for death the most prominent and full plumed figures amongst them. Yelling their fear-striking sas-sak-way, or war-whoop, they sent their deadly missiles like hail amongst their enemies, sending many of their bravest warriors to the land of spirits. The confusion amongst the Dakotas at this sudden and unexpected attack was immense. The captives overturned the canoes they were in, and the rest running against one another, and those in the water struggling to re-embark, and the sudden jumps of those that were wounded, caused many of them to overturn, leaving their owners struggling in the deep current. Many were thus drowned, and as long as they remained within range of their enemies' weapons, the Dakotas suffered severely.
Some dove and swam ashore on the opposite side—then running down the bank of the river, they joined those of their fellows who still floated, about a mile below the place of the attack, where they all landed and collected their upturned canoes, and such of their articles as floated past. Many of their captives made their escape by swimming to their friends. Some were dispatched at the first onset, and the few that still remained in their hands, the Dakotas took and tied to trees, to await the consequences of the coming struggle, for, smarting under the loss of their bravest men, and having noticed the comparatively small numbers of the Ojibways, they determined to go back and fight the battle anew, and revenge the death of their relatives.
They bravely made the attack, but the Ojibways were so strongly and securely posted, that they sustained the fight till dark without losing any of their men, while the Dakotas suffered severely, being obliged to fight from open ground, without shelter. The fight lasted till night, when the Dakotas retreated. They encamped where they had landed, and in plain view and hearing of their enemies, who, during the night distinctly heard their lamentations, as they wept for their relatives who had been slain during the day's fight.
In the morning, the Dakotas, burning for vengeance, returned to the attack. Acting with greater caution and wariness, they approached the Ojibway defences by digging counter holes, or making embankments of earth or logs before them, to shield them from their missiles. The ammunition of the contending warriors failing them, the Dakotas dug their hiding holes so close to those of their foes, that large stones were easily thrown from hole to hole. In this manner, a late noted Ojibway chief named We-esh-coob (Sweet), who was then a young man, received a stunning blow on his face, which broke his jawbone. Some of the bravest warriors fought hand to hand with clubs and knives, and the Ojibways lost one of their number, who, fighting rather rashly, was dispatched by a Dakota brave, and scalped.
The Ojibways, however, defended themselves so obstinately, that they eventually forced their enemies to retreat. Having suffered a severe loss, the Dakota warriors returned to their villages, and for fear that the Ojibways would retaliate, by making a similar incursion into their country, the M'dé-wak-an-ton section of the tribe evacuated the Rum River country, and moved to the Minnesota River.
DAKOTA LEGEND.
The following Dakota legend connected with the invasion of their tribe to the heads of the Mississippi, of which we have given the preceding account, was related to the writer by Waub-o-jeeg (White Fisher), a chief of the Mississippi Ojibways, who being of part Dakota origin, in his younger days lived more or less with them, and learned to speak their language. In this manner he picked up many of their traditions and beliefs, and among the number, the following simple, but affecting story:—
A young Dakota warrior, eager to gain renown, determined to join the war party which was gathering at his village at St. Anthony's Falls, and destined to sweep the Ojibway country, and put out the fires which this tribe had lighted on the Upper Mississippi. He had just taken to wife a beautiful girl of his tribe, whom he loved, and who dearly loved him. She endeavored to dissuade him from going to war on this occasion. He would not listen to the soft persuasions, nor allow her loving caresses to affect his determination, for all the young men of his village were going, and they would laugh at him were he to remain alone with the women, when there were eagle plumes and renown to be gained. With tears the young wife importuned her husband to remain. She told him that a presentiment weighed on her heart, that he would never return from this war path.
The young warrior, though he dearly loved his bride, was resolute in withstanding her persuasions, but to appease her anxious mind, and her dreams of ill-boding, he solemnly promised and called on the spirits to hear him, that he would return to her. Their last parting was sad and tearful, and she could not even bear to witness the ceremonies attendant on the departure of the warriors from their village. She counted every day of his absence, and as the days increased in number, she daily eagerly looked for his return. The warriors had overstayed the appointed number of days, in which they had promised to return, and they were now hourly expected back to their homes. Their wives and sweethearts decked themselves out in their finery, in anticipation of their coming.
The anxious young wife retired to the water's side early one morning, and sat down on the grassy banks of the flowing Mississippi, to comb and braid her long and beautiful hair. The glassy surface of the bright waters at her feet served her for a mirror. Notwithstanding her former presentiments, she expected the return of her young husband that day, for he had solemnly promised it by the name of the spirits. She prepared, therefore, to appear to him to the best advantage. As she cast her eyes at the current which sluggishly swept past her feet, she noticed a dark object floating beneath the surface of the waters. The circling eddies brought it to her feet, and with a slight scream of surprise, and a cold thrill at her heart, she recognized a human figure. Instinctively she sprang forward, and catching the body by the arm, pulled it partly on shore. As if an ice bolt had been applied to her heart, she knew the features of her young husband. The feathered end of a barbed arrow which had pierced his heart, still stuck from his breast. He had kept his promise—he had returned, indeed, but in death. The young, heart-broken wife, uttering a piercing shriek, fell senseless on the inanimate body. The villagers hearing that despairing cry, ran to the water's side, and at sight of the dead warrior, they received the first intimation of the loss which their warriors had suffered at Crow Wing fight. The young husband had probably been killed while floating down the river in his canoe, at the first fire of the ambushed Ojibways, and the current might naturally have taken his body to the spot where his wife was awaiting his arrival, while his fellows were fighting at Crow Wing, and during their return homeward. The shattered remains of this grand war party returned the same day. The young wife whose presentiment had thus been most awfully fulfilled, pined away, and wept herself to death. She died happy in the hope and belief of rejoining her young warrior husband, in the happy land of spirits.