# History of the Ojibway Nation/Chapter 10

CHAPTER X.
WARS OF THE OJIBWAYS WITH THE IROQUOIS AND O-DUG-AM-EES, OR FOXES.
Besides carrying on an inveterate and exterminating warfare with the powerful Dakotas and cruel Foxes, the Ojibways were obliged to keep up their ancient feud with the Naudoways, or Iroquois, towards the east. For a time the powerful confederation of Six Nations prevailed against the Algic tribes who had taken possession of the great northern chain of lakes, mostly through their having been first supplied with fire-arms by the Dutch and British of New York.
They became possessed of the country bordering the Ottaway River, and effectually barred their enemies from communication with the French who resided on the St. Lawrence. Their anxiety to open the road to the white traders, in order to procure fire-arms and their much coveted commodities, induced the Ojibways, Ottaways, Pottawatumies, Osaukies, and Wyandots to enter into a firm alliance. They sent their united forces against the Iroquois, and fighting severe and bloody battles, they eventually forced them to retire from Canada.
​From this time, now upwards of five generations ago, the route from Lake Superior to the French settlement on the St. Lawrence became comparatively free and open, though the trading parties were often waylaid by the ambushed warriors of the Iroquois on the Ottaway River.
The warlike, confederated tribes whom the French early designated with the name of Iroquois, gave not up their long contest with the allied Algics, without a severe and protracted struggle. They often collected their forces, and marching westward, their hardy warriors became familiar with the shores of Lake Huron, the banks of the Ste. Marie, and often even procured scalps on the shores of Lake Superior. At one time the Ottaways were forced to retire from the Straits of Mackinaw, and the islands of Lake Huron, through fear of these redoubtable eastern warriors. The last important battle between the Ojibways and the Iroquois, took place about one hundred years ago at a point on Lake Superior, a short distance above its outlet, which has to this day retained the name of Point Iroquois. The Sault Ste. Marie Ojibways are probably better acquainted with the details of this occurrence than those from whom I have obtained the account which is here given, as they are locally interested in the tradition.
Ke-che-wash-keenh or Great Buffalo, chief of La Pointe, briefly gives the following version of the affair:—
"The Ojibways, one time collected a war party on the shores of the Great Lake, which proceeded eastward against their old enemies the Naud-o-ways. On their road to the country of these people, they one evening encamped on a point of the lake shore a short distance above Bow-e-ting (Ste. Marie). They had lighted their fires for the night and commenced cooking their suppers, when the sounds of distant yelling and laughter came indistinctly to their ever-listening ears. The noise appeared to come from the other side of the point, immediately opposite the ​spot where they had encamped. Scouts were sent to reconnoitre the noisy party, whom they supposed to be traders proceeding up the lake to trade with their people.
"These scouts soon returned on a run, and informed their party that they had seen a large war party of Naud-o-ways, who were encamped, drinking firewater, and carousing with perfect carelessness, and apparently with every sense of security. The Ojibways quickly extinguished their blazing fires, and making their usual preparations for a desperate fight, they noiselessly approached and surrounded the encampment of their boisterous and drunken enemies. They silently awaited the moment when nearly all had drunk themselves insensible, and the remainder had fallen asleep, for the war whistle to sound the onset. They attacked them with great fury, and it is said that but few of the Naud-o-ways escaped the Ojibways' tomahawk and scalping knife on this bloody occasion."
The "Six Nations" never after this made incursions into the country of the Lake Superior Ojibways, and from this occurrence may be dated the ending of the long and fierce warfare which these two people had been waging against one another.
The French always favored the Ojibway and other Algic tribes in their war with the New York tribes, and for this, they often suffered at the hands of the Iroquois, who waylaid their canoes laden with merchandise on the route up the Great Chain of Lakes.
For providing the Ojibways also with fire-arms, and through this causing them to become too powerful for their western enemies, the French incurred the dislike and hatred of the Dakota and O-dug-am-ee tribes, who on one occasion made their deep enmity evident, by making war ​on them and attacking their fort at Wow-e-yat-ton-ong or Detroit, which was only saved by the combined efforts of the O-dah-wahs and Ojibways under the leadership of the renowned Pontiac, who had already at this period, 1745, commenced to carve out the renown which he eventually attained.
It is shortly after this period that the O-dug-am-ees again incurred the vengeance of the Ojibways, who a second time attacked and swept away their villages. It has been stated that on their being driven from the headwaters of the St. Croix and Chippeway rivers, they had retired to the Wisconsin and into the country bordering on Lake Michigan. The tradition of their second invasion by the Ojibways, is given as follows by the old Indian story tellers:—
An old Ojibway hunter with his wife, two sons, and their families, were one winter hunting about the head lakes of the Wisconsin River. As they searched for game they moved from camp to camp by slow and easy stages, and being of a fearless disposition, they formed the southern vanguard of numerous other families similarly employed and following slowly in their wake.
They had arrived in the vicinity of the usual hunting grounds of the O-dug-am-ees, and now at every camp they formed a barrier of logs and bushes to shield them from a sudden attack of their enemies. One morning early, one of the sons of the old hunter, as usual, put on his moccasins, tied his blanket around his body, and, shouldering his gun, started on his day’s hunt. It was snowing heavily, and the rest of the family remained at home. The hunter had been gone but a short time when he returned, and, without saying a word, sat down in his usual place, and commenced whittling his bullets so that they could be easily and quickly thrown into his gun. When he had finished this work, he took his gun, drew out the load, and carefully ​cleansed it. He then sharpened his knife, and placed his war-club and spear ready at hand for immediate use.
The old hunter watched the singular preparations of his silent son, and suspecting that he had discovered signs of an enemy, arose, and saying that he would go and cut a few sticks of the red willow to smoke, he left the lodge to go and see with his own and more experienced eyes, what were the signs of danger. He had proceeded but a few steps in the adjacent forest, when he discovered a strange track in which there were but a few flakes of the fast falling snow. His Indian sagacity told him that it was the foot-print of an O-dug-am-ee, and returning to the wigwam, he proposed to his family an immediate flight to some neighboring camp of their friends. The silent son now spoke, and told his father that flight had become impracticable, for they were entirely surrounded by a very large war-party of their enemies. "All we can do," said he, "is to prepare for death; for I have seen the trail of the O-dug-am-ee warriors, and it is deep-beaten and wide; many feet have trodden it."
Determined to defend their women and children to the last gasp, the Ojibway hunters cut down a few more trees and strengthened the barrier around their wigwam. Night gradually came and covered everything in deep darkness and gloom, yet still was the expected attack deferred. The imitated hootings of the owl, and howling of wolves which resounded from different parts of the forest, but too plainly told the hunters that the O-dug-am-ee wolves had surrounded their camp, and only waited the first dawn of day (the Indian's favorite hour), to make the attack.
The old hunter being anxious to save a portion of his kindred, took two girls—his grandchildren—each by the hand and silently led them some distance into the surrounding woods, amid the darkness, and informing them the direction they were to go—to be judged by the wind, and ​fast falling flakes of snow, he bade them save their lives by flight and inform their people of his fate.
The old man then turned to his lodge, and he listened anxiously for the yell that would denote the discovery and death of "the little birds which he had let out to fly away." That expected yell came not, and the old man became satisfied that his two grandchildren were safe.
At the first dawn of morning, the O-dug-am-ees commenced the attack with loud and thrilling war whoops. The Ojibways defended themselves bravely, and as long as their ammunition lasted, they kept their numerous assailants at bay, and sent many of their more hardy warriors to the land of Spirits; but as soon as their powder gave out they ceased firing, the O-dug-am-ees rushed into their camp, and leaping over their barrier of logs and brush, the work of death and scalping commenced. The Ojibways died not without a desperate struggle, for even the grandmother of the family cut down an enemy with her axe before she received the death stroke. All perished but the old hunter, who, during the last brave struggle of his two sons, miraculously escaped through the dense ranks of his eager foes, entirely naked and covered with blood from numerous wounds.
He had not proceeded far before he met a small party of his friends, who had been informed of the desperate situation of his camp, by the two girls whom he had caused to escape during the previous night. At the head of this party, though almost dead with fatigue and loss of blood, the old man returned, and found his wigwam in ashes. The O-dug-am-ee wolves had already done their work and departed, and the bodies of his murdered kindred scalped, dismembered, cut and hashed into a hundred pieces, lay strewn about on the blood-stained snow.
At this horrid spectacle the Ojibway party, though feeble in numbers, recklessly followed the return trail of the per​petrators, depending for help, should they enter into a premature engagement with them, upon the different camps of their tribe, to whom runners had been sent during the night. They had not proceeded far on the deep-beaten trail of their enemies, when they beheld one of their number who had been left in the rear, walking leisurely along; perfectly deaf and unconscious to the approach of the avenging Ojibways, he fell an easy victim under their tomahawks.
They still ran on, till hearing a distant halloo, which was repeated nearer and nearer, they hid themselves in the deep snow near the trail.
The O-dug-am-ees having stopped to smoke, and missing one of their number, first hallooed to him, and on his not answering, they sent two of their young men to go back and bring him up. These two men were dispatched by the ambushed Ojibways, and as they too, did not return, the impatient O-dug-am-ees sent three more of their party to go and see what kept them, and they likewise met the same fate as their fellows. Becoming yet more impatient for the return of their companions, a large number of the O-dug-am-ees arose and ran back in search of them. On these, the ambushed Ojibways were obliged to fire, and immediately retreating, a running fight commenced. The whole force of their enemies now hearing the firing of guns, joined their fellows, and the Ojibways would soon have been annihilated, had not a large party of their friends, guided by the noise of the fight, arrived to their rescue. This timely reinforcement wisely ambushed themselves behind the trees near the trail, and as the O-dug-am-ees were eagerly following the retreating party, the hidden Ojibways fell on them with great fury, and in the first surprise succeeded in killing a large number, and they eventually forced the remainder to retreat and fly back to their villages with the black paint of mourning on their faces.
​Though having partially revenged the death of his kindred in this fight, yet the old Ojibway hunter was not satisfied. For two years he secluded himself from his people, and accompanied only by his two grandchildren, he made his hunts where beaver was to be found in the greatest plenty. During this time he laid by the fruits of his solitary hunts, and having collected sufficient for his purposes, he loaded a large canoe with large packs of beaver skins, and made a journey to Detroit, which was then a grand depot for the fur trade, and contained a garrison of French soldiers.
Blacking his face with coal, placing ashes on his head, and gashing his body with his knife, causing himself to be covered with blood as a sign of deep mourning and affliction, he presented himself before his "French father," told him the tale of his wrongs, and presenting his packs of rich beaver, he asked for help to revenge himself against his foes.
The O-dug-am-ees had always evinced a bad feeling toward the French, and on several occasions they had plundered and murdered their traders. They were a restless and troublesome tribe, continually embroiled in mischief, and a short time previous they had attempted with the assistance of the Dakotas and O-saug-ees to take the French fort at Detroit. The appeal of the old Ojibway hunter, therefore, was listened to by willing ears. Ammunition and guns were freely given him, and a number of Frenchmen were promised to aid him in his intended invasion of the O-dug-am-ee country. The old hunter, being supplied with the necessary means, easily raised a large war party of his people, and being joined by his French allies, he proceeded to the hunting grounds of his enemies, and after severe fighting destroyed two of the principal O-dug-am-ee villages, and drove the remnants of this obnox​ious tribe from the shores of Lake Michigan, and the Wisconsin River.
Enfeebled in numbers, the O-dug-am-ees retired westward to the Mississippi River, and fearing a total extinguishment of their national fire, it is at this time that they first joined the lodges of the Osaugees, and requested to be incorporated into that tribe. Their petition was denied, though the Osaugees allowed them to remain in their villages till they had in some degree regained, by a long term of quiet and peace, their former strength and numbers.