Fifty Years In The Northwest
been removed to Pokegama. Much pertaining to the mission work, both at
Pokegama and elsewhere, will be found in the biographies of the
principal missionaries. We mention here only such incidents as may be
of more general interest. For many of these incidents we are indebted
to Mrs. Elisabeth J. Ayer, of Belle Prairie, the widow of Rev.
Frederic Ayer, for a long time missionary to the Ojibways. This
estimable lady has passed her eighty-fifth year, but her mind is still
clear and her hand steady, her manuscript having the appearance of the
work of a precise young schoolmistress. She mentions an old Canadian,
who had been in the country sixty years, and for seven or eight years
had been entirely blind. He was known as Mushk-de-winini
(The-old-blind-prairie-man), also the old trader, Thomas Conner, the
remains of whose mud chimney and foundation of the old trading house
may still be seen on the southern shore of the lake.
Franklin Steele was the first white man to visit the mission. In the
spring of 1837 the mission aided three or four families in building.
February, 1837, Rev. Mr. Hall, of the La Pointe mission, visited
Pokegama, and organized a church of seven members,--three of whom were
natives,--administered the ordinance of baptism to eight persons, and
solemnized two marriages, probably the first in the valley of the St.
Croix. Revs. Boutwell and Ely came to the mission in 1837. A school
had been opened, some Indian houses built, and gardens enlarged, and
the future of the mission seemed assured. Mrs. Ayer relates the
following account of the
BATTLE OF POKEGAMA.
In 1811 the Sioux selected this settlement as the place to avenge the
wrongs of the Ojibways--some of recent date; the principal of which
was the killing of two sons of Little Crow (done in self defense)
between Pokegama and the falls of the St. Croix. The Sioux arrived at
Pokegama in the night, and stopped on the opposite side of the lake,
two miles from the mission. The main body went to the main settlement,
and, after examining the ground where they intended to operate, hid
among the trees and brush back of the Indian gardens, with orders that
all keep quiet on both sides of the lake till a given signal, when the
Indians were busy in their gardens, and then make quick work. But
their plans failed. Most of the Ojibways of the settlement had, from
fear of the Sioux, slept on an island half a mile out in the lake (I
mean the women and children), and were late to their gardens. In the
meantime a loaded canoe was nearing the opposite shore and the few
Sioux who had remained there to dispatch any who, in time of battle,
might attempt to escape by crossing over, fired prematurely. This gave
the alarm, and saved the Ojibways. The chief ran to Mr. Ayer's door
and said, expressively: "The Sioux are upon us," and was off. The
Indians seemed at once to understand that the main body of the enemy
was at hand. The missionaries stepped out of the door and had just
time to see a great splashing of water across the lake when bullets
came whizzing about their ears, and they went in. The Sioux had left
their hiding place and the battle commenced in earnest. Most of the
women and children of the settlement were yet on the island. The house
of the chief was well barricaded and most of the men gathered in
there. The remainder took refuge in a house more exposed, at the other
end of the village. The enemy drew up very near and fired in at the
window. One gun was made useless, being indented by a ball. The owner
retired to a corner and spent the time in prayer. The mother of the
house, with her small children, was on her way to the island under a
shower of bullets, calling aloud on God for help.
The missionaries seeing from their windows quantities of bloody flesh
upon stumps in the battle field, thought surely that several of their
friends had fallen. It proved to be a cow and calf of an Ojibway. The
mission children were much frightened and asked many questions, and
for apparent safety went up stairs and were put behind some well
filled barrels. In the heat of battle two Ojibways came from the
island and landed in front of Mr. Ayer's house. They drew their canoe
ashore and secreted themselves as well as the surroundings would
permit. Not long after three Sioux ran down the hill and toward the
canoe. They were fired upon and one fell dead. The other two ran for
help but before they could return the Ojibways were on the way back to
the island. Not having time to take the scalp of their enemy, they
hastily cut the powder horn strap from his breast, dripping with
blood, as a trophy of victory. The Sioux drew the dead body up the
hill and back to the place of fighting. The noise ceased. The battle
was over. The missionaries soon heard the joyful words, quietly
spoken: "We still live." Not a warrior had fallen. The two school
girls who were in the canoe at the first firing in the morning were
the only ones killed, though half the men and boys in the fight were
wounded. The Sioux women and boys who had come with their warriors to
carry away the spoils had the chagrin of returning as empty as they
came.
The Ojibways were careful that no canoe should be left within reach of
the Sioux. From necessity they took a canoe, made by Mr. Ely, and
removed their dead two miles up the river, dressed them (seemingly) in
the best the party could furnish, with each a double barreled gun, a
tomahawk and scalping knife, set them up against some large trees and
went on their way. Some of these articles, including their
head-dresses, were sent to the museum of the American board, in
Boston.
In the closing scene the missionaries had the opportunity of seeing
the difference between those Indians who had listened to instruction
and those who had not. The second day after the battle the pagan party
brought back to the island the dead bodies of their enemies, cut in
pieces, and distributed parts to such Ojibways as had at any time lost
friends by the hands of the Sioux. One woman, whose daughter was
killed and mutilated on that memorable morning, when she saw the
canoes coming, with a head raised high in the air on a long pole,
waded out into the water, grabbed it like a hungry dog and dashed it
repeatedly on the stones with savage fierceness. Others of the pagans
conducted themselves in a similar manner. They even cooked some of the
flesh that night in their kettles of rice. Eunice (as she was named at
her baptism) was offered an arm. At first she hesitated; but for
reasons, sufficient in her own mind, thought best to take it. Her
daughter-in-law, widow of her son who had recently been killed and
chopped into pieces by the Sioux, took another, and they went into
their lodge. Eunice said: "My daughter, we must not do as some of our
friends are doing. We have been taught better," and taking some white
cloths from her sack they wrapped the arms in them, offered a prayer,
and gave them a decent burial. About this time a Mr. Kirkland was sent
from Quincy, Illinois, by a party who wished to plant a colony not far
from the mission station. He arrived at Pokegama very soon after the
battle. Notwithstanding what had happened he selected a location on
Cross lake, just where a railroad has now been in operation for some
years. He worked vigorously for two or three weeks, and then went to
consult the Indian agent and the military at Fort Snelling. They gave
him no encouragement that the two tribes would ever live in peace; and
he went home. The Ojibways lived in constant fear, and the place was
soon deserted. This was a great trial to the missionaries; but they
did not urge them to stay. They separated into small parties and went
where they could get a living for the present and be out of danger.
The teachers remained at their post, occasionally visiting the Indians
in their retreat, hoping they might soon think it safe to return to
their homes. In this they were disappointed. These visits were not
always very safe. On one of these trips Mr. Ayer was lost, and from
cold and hunger came near perishing. Not finding the party he sought,
he wandered about for a day or two. In the meantime the weather became
much colder. Not expecting to camp out he took only one blanket and
food enough for one meal. In crossing Kettle river on a self-made
conveyance, and there being ice on the opposite shore, he got wet. The
Indians, anticipating his visit, had sent a young man to the mission
station to guide him to, their new locality. He returned in haste,
fell on Mr. Ayer's track, and a light sprinkle of snow enabled him to
follow it until he was found.
Mrs. Ayer relates several incidents illustrative of Indian character.
As her husband had been stationed at Yellow Lake, and afterward at Red
Lake, these incidents are not necessarily located at Pokegama:
A NOBLE CHIEF.
The Red Lake Indians were a noble band--they had a noble chief. In
civilization he led the way, in religion he did not oppose. He
shouldered a heavy axe, and could be seen chopping on one side of a
large tree, in perspiration, while his wife was on the other side,
helping all she could with her hatchet. This chief was also an
advocate of temperance. Not that he didn't love whisky, but he hated
the effect of it on his band. He dictated a letter to the president,
begging him not to let the white faces bring any more firewater to his
people, giving as one reason that they had teachers among them who
must be protected, and if they had whisky he did not know what might
happen.
FRANK CONFESSIONS.
In the church there was much childish simplicity. Once when Mr. Ayer
was lecturing on the eighth commandment, he paused, and without
expecting an answer, said: "Now who is there among you who has not
stolen?" One woman began to confess--another followed, then another.
One thought she had stolen about seven times. Another entered more
into particulars, mentioning the things she had stolen, till the scene
was quite amusing. Another rose to confess, but was cut short by her
husband, who said: "Who knows how many times he has stolen? We are a
nation of thieves." And with a few remarks the meeting closed.
A COWARDLY DEED.
After a medicine dance, according to Indian custom, they proposed a
feast, but there was nothing on which to feast. There was a large
company and all were hungry. Mr. Ayer's cow was in the barnyard near.
Three daring fellows sitting by themselves began to taunt each other
in regard to their comparative prowess. After an excitement was
created, one of them, to show his bravery, shot the cow. Mr. Ayer was
in his garden and witnessed the performance. Two or three of the
leading men in this pagan party came immediately to Mr. Ayer to learn
whether he would take the cow for his own use. While they were talking
(perhaps twenty minutes) the cow was cut in pieces, and in the
Indians' kettles preparatory to a good time. After the Indians had
sold their land they paid for the cow.
AN UNJUST ACCUSATION.
Indians are said to be revengeful. They are. So are white men. They
fight for their rights. So do white men. They are thieves and liars.
So are white men. Quarrelsome, envious, jealous. So are white men.
Experience teaches that according to their knowledge they compare
favorably with Anglo-Saxons. Sin is none the better, nor less
mischievous, for being civilized.
A missionary, a good man, too, he was, accused an innocent woman of
stealing his shirts that were laid out on the snow to whiten. His
wife, not remembering that she had brought them in early in the
morning, asked him to go out and get them. But they were not to be
found! "Who has been here this morning?" was asked. "Ekwazans; I don't
remember any other." "Well, she shan't have those shirts. I'll
overtake her before she gets home." He followed her four miles,