CHAPTER I.

 CHAPTER I.  A WEIRD CEREMONY. 1800. "De Beeg Chief he want to know, heem, by what autorité you fellers, you, cut down hees wood and tak' hees lan'?" The speaker was a trapper named Brown, who had been in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company for many years, and, though English by birth, spoke a mixed dialect, owing to his association with French trappers and traders and to the influence of his squaw wife. He had, however, retained a sufficient knowledge of English to be able to act as interpreter. "Tell him," replied the leader of a group of settlers, "that the great father who lives on the other side of the water and Sir John Johnson, of Quebec, have authorized us to take this land." "He say, heem," continued the interpreter, as he squirted the juices of his quid on the bronze carpet of pine needles, "dat you must tink dat dese chute and reever he want for hees beesnesse, an hees papoose she want eat someteeng. He want dis place, heem, pour chasse le mooshrat an' de moose, mak' le soucre an' ketch de feesh, an' hees afeard dat you tak' hees beaver, kill hees deer, break hees sucreries. You cut down hees tree for shure you kill hees beesnesse." "The tools and materials we brought," replied the stranger, "are not for hunting or fishing, but for clearing land, and we shall endeavour to protect your beaver and fishing-grounds; but as for the sugaries, we must make use of them, because the land has already been given us, and if you will collect all your materials for making sugar we shall pay cash for them." "De Beeg Chief he say," continued Brown, "dat white man seem bien bon, an' dat he will be so wit heem, an' if he pay cinq Louis he am geeve up all claim to de lan'." "Very well," said the stranger, "we shall pay them thirty pounds if they will produce a deed or title to the lands." "He comprends pas,"* said the interpreter. "L'agrement she was mak wit de fadder of hees fadder." * Understands not. Drawing a paper from his pocket the stranger read as follows: "The Indians have consented to relinquish all claim to the land, in compensation for which they receive annual grants from the Government, which shall be withheld if they molest settlers." For a time no one spoke, then the Big Chief, in a calm, deliberate and thoughtful manner, addressed the interpreter, who said: "For shure he dunno, heem, how white man mak' dat papier hear an' speak dem words of long tam. Dis man he hav' someteeng dat he comprends pas." A long consultation then took place among the dusky sons of the forest, and once more the interpreter turned to the stranger and said: "Our tribe she tink like dis—Eenglishman he got someteeng he comprends pas at all; mabbe, he say, she wan beeg loup garou* and he tink it am better to be bon ami an' leeve in de sam' place dan be bad ennemi; so he am mak' you chief an' be de bess frien'." * An indescribable monster, supposed to have supernatural powers. The words were hardly finished when the Big Chief Machecawa (the strong one) advanced with slow and stately tread and implanted a kiss on the brow of the stranger. The Chief was a man in the prime of life, of great height and strength. As he stood there, still and motionless, he looked like a colossal statue in bronze, a perfect model, from his feathered head-dress to his beaded moccasins. He was followed by several subordinate chiefs who did likewise.  "He stood there, a colossal statue in bronze."  "He stood there, a colossal statue in bronze." The Chief then spread a piece of well-dressed moose-skin, neatly painted, before him on the ground, upon which he opened a curious skin bag containing several mysterious looking articles, the principal one being a small carved image about eight inches long. Its first covering was of down, over which a piece of birch bark was closely tied, and the whole was enveloped in several folds of red and blue cloth. This little figure was evidently an object of the most pious regard. The next article taken from the bag was his war cap, which was decorated with feathers and plumes of rare birds, the claws of beaver, eagles, etc. Suspended from it was a quill for every enemy whom the owner had slain in battle. The remaining contents of the bag were a piece of tobacco and a pipe. These articles all being exposed, and the stem of the pipe arranged upon two forks so as not to touch the ground, Machecawa motioned to his white brother to sit down opposite to him. The pipe was then filled and attached to the stem. A pair of wooden pinchers was provided to put fire into it. All arrangements having been completed, the Indians gathered round in a circle, awe and solemnity pervading all, while a subordinate chief, O'Jawescawa, took up the pipe, lighted it, and presented it to Machecawa, who received it standing and held it between both hands. He then turned to the east and drew a few whiffs which he blew to that point. The same ceremony was performed to the other three quarters, with his eyes directed upward during the whole of it. Then holding the stem about the middle between the three first fingers of both hands, and raising them upon a line with his forehead, he swung it three times round from the east with the sun, when, after pointing and balancing it in various directions, he laid it upon the forks. He then made a speech acknowledging past mercies and expressing the confidence that the blessing of peace would attend all their dealings with the stranger, upon whom he would now confer the title of "Wabisca Onodis," the White Chief. He then sat down, while the whole company declared their approbation and thanks by uttering the word "Ho," with an emphatic prolongation of the last letter. O'Jawescawa then took up the pipe and held it to the mouth of Machecawa, who, after smoking three whiffs out of it, uttered a short prayer and then went round with it, taking his course from east to west, to every man present, both Indians and white men, who could confidently affirm that they entertained no grudge against any of the assembled party, until the pipe was smoked out, when, after turning it three or four times round his head, he dropped it downwards and replaced it in its original position. Machecawa then approached the stranger and the little band who were with him and uttered a short guttural sound, which the interpreter said meant, "Come and eat." To refuse would be a grave offence, so the invitation was accepted by all, who followed the Big Chief through a narrow and winding path, which led to a small lake midway between the Gatineau River and the Chaudiere Falls. They arranged themselves in front of a number of huts made of bent boughs, some of which were covered with bark and some with deerskin, securely sewed and stretched tight as a drum. Following the example of the Indians they squatted on the ground in a circle. Surrounded by a chattering group of squaws sat Newitchewagan, the wife of the Chief, with a child between her knees, while she hunted through the jungle of his hair with destroying thumb and finger. One old squaw, who was kneeling under a tree rubbing and twisting a moccasin between her hands, paused to fill her mouth with water, which she spurted in repeated jets over the moccasin. A little papoose, strapped to a flat piece of wood about three feet long spread with soft moss, was suspended to a branch of a tree. It crowed and laughed quite merrily as it was swayed to and fro by the cold wind. While the feast was in course of preparation the new Chief and his friends were entertained by songs of a most melancholy nature. It was a strange scene that presented itself that cold and frosty evening in March. The snow-drifts were covered with a crust of frozen sleet, which crunched beneath the tread of moccasined feet. The bare branches of the maples were encased in ice, with long icicles attached, which glistened and reflected like a prism the rays of the setting sun. Small troughs of basswood, hollowed out in the middle by burning, stood at the trunk of almost every tree to catch the sap, which had ceased to run for several days owing to the "cold snap" which had taken place in the weather. "How do you make sugar without pots?" asked the new Chief of the interpreter. Pointing to a green hardwood stump he explained, in broken English, that the squaws burned a deep hole in the centre, into which they poured the sap which they had gathered. Stones heated on the fire were then dropped into the wooden cauldron, which caused the sap to boil. This operation was repeated until it was reduced to sugar. There was little variation in the dress of the grotesque figures gathered round the fire. All had strips of deerskin tightly bound round their legs instead of trousers, and which were never removed unless to replace with new ones. Two aprons, one behind and one before, were fastened around their waist by girdles. Short shirts made of skin were fastened at the neck and arms, and were removed while portaging or paddling. They had very little hair—only a tuft on the top of the head, which was stuck full of feathers, wings and shells. Not a man among them could boast of a beard. The squaws were dressed in much the same fashion, except that the aprons were a trifle longer than those worn by the men, and their coarse black hair floated in the breeze. Soon a young squaw drew from the ashes the charred remains of fully a score of partridges, which had not been divested of feathers nor cleaned internally. On removing the outer covering of charred feathers and ashes, she laid one for each man present before the Big Chief, who, with great solemnity, cast the first one into the fire as a sacrifice to the Great Spirit, the Master of Life. Pieces of bear-steak, which had been sizzling before the fire, were then served, while the Chief entertained his guests with strange monotonous songs, accompanied by the "shishiquoi," or rattle. Full justice having been done to these and other Indian delicacies, Machecawa addressed the new Chief, the interpretation of his remarks being as follows: "Our white brother will never inspire his enemies with feelings of awe or fear if he does not wear war-paint. Will the white-faced stranger consent to let us use our brush so as to make him such an object of terror that even his enemies will flee from him?" "No! No!! No!!!" said the new Chief. "Soot and grease and ochre are for Indians, not for white men." Whereupon the Indian said: "It is the custom of our chiefs to chose a manitou, who will protect them in times of danger and who will give them success in the chase." "Tell them," replied the new Chief, "that the white man's Manitou is a Great Spirit whom we call 'Our Father,' and he saves and keeps and protects us by night and by day." "Will the new Chief then permit us to graven on his body the form of this Great Spirit?" "The form of the Spirit has been engraven on my body," he replied, "when He created me in His likeness." The little group of settlers observed that a white dog, the mystic animal of many tribes, was being tied to the end of an upright pole. Presently the Chief, in a loud voice, began to pray to the 'Great Spirit Father,' the new Chief's Manitou, begging Him to accept the living sacrifice about to be offered. The Indians then rushed upon the animal in a state of frenzy and began to devour the raw, quivering flesh. This weird ceremony was a mystery to the assembled whites, and remained a mystery for some time. This concluded the ceremonies of the day, and the new Chief and his friends returned to their shanties on the banks of the Ottawa, near the western point of the Gatineau, loaded with glory and Indian hospitality.