# History of the Ojibway Nation/Chapter 26

CHAPTER XXVI.
PROGRESS OF THE OJIBWAYS ON THE WISCONSIN AND CHIPPEWAY RIVERS.
We have now arrived at a period in the history of the Ojibways, which is within the remembrance of aged chiefs, half-breeds, and traders still living amongst them; and we can promise our readers that but few occurrences will hereafter be related, but the accounts of which have been obtained by the writer from the lips of eye-witnesses, and actual actors therein.
From this period, his labors in procuring reliable information have been light, in comparison to the trouble of sifting and procuring corroborative testimony from various sources, the traditions which have been orally transmitted from father to son, for generations past. The greatest trouble will now consist in choosing from the mass of information which the writer has been collecting during several years past, such portions as may truly be considered as historical and worthy of presenting to the world. The ​important tribe of whom we treat in these pages, is divided into several distinctly marked divisions, occupying different sections of their extensive country, and we have been obliged to skip from one section to another, that we might relate events which have happened to each, in the order of time.
In this chapter we will again return to the Lac Coutereille and Lac du Flambeau divisions, whom we left, in a previous chapter, in possession of the sources of the Wisconsin and Chippeway rivers—two large tributaries of the Mississippi.
In the latter part of the eighteenth century these two bands already numbered one thousand souls. They had located their villages on the beautiful lakes which form the head waters of these rivers, and to some extent they practised the arts of agriculture, raising large quantities of corn and potatoes, the seed for which had been introduced amongst them by their traders on Lake Superior. They also collected each autumn large quantities of wild rice, which abounded in many of their lakes and streams. As game became scarce in the vicinity of their villages, they moved in large hunting camps towards the Mississippi, and on the richer hunting grounds of the Dakotas they reaped rich harvests of meat and furs.
The older and more intelligent men of these bands attribute to this day their steady westward advance, and final possession of the country nearly to the Mississippi, through following the example and footsteps of their first and old pioneer trader, Michel Cadotte, a younger brother of J.B. Cadotte, mentioned in previous chapters.
The memory of this man, the marks of whose wintering posts are pointed out to this day throughout every portion of the Ojibway country, is still dear to the hearts of the few old chiefs and hunters who lived cotemporary with him, and received the benefits of his unbounded charitable ​disposition. Full of courage and untiring enterprise, he is mentioned to this day as having not only placed the weapons into the hands of the Ojibways which enabled them to conquer their enemies, but led them each winter westward and further westward into the rich hunting grounds of the Dakotas, until they learned to consider the country as their own, and caused their enemies to fall back after many a bloody fight west of the "Great River."
He is mentioned as the first trader who wintered amongst the bands who had taken possession of the sources of the Chippeway River. As early as the year 1784, he wintered on the Num-a-ka-gun River, a branch of the St. Croix. The remains of his old post are pointed out a short distance below the portage, which leads towards Lac Coutereille. From this position he secured the trade of both the St. Croix and Chippeway River divisions. From a small outfit of goods which he had procured from the British traders at Michilimackinac, he collected forty packs of beaver skins, with which he returned in the spring by way of La Pointe. A few years after, he wintered on Chippeway River, at a spot known to the Ojibways as Puk-a-wah-on-aun, a short distance above the mouth of Man-e-to-wish River. This region of country was then claimed by the Dakotas, and the enterprise of locating thereon was attended with great danger. Beaver, elk, deer, and bear, were, however, so plenty, that the Indians were induced, though in "fear and trembling," to follow their fearless trader. The Lac Coutereille band in a body floated down the Chippeway River, and pitched their camp by the side of his trading house, and word having been sent to the Lac du Flambeau band, they also, in a body, floated down the Man-e-to-wish, and the two camps joining together, rendered them too strong to fear an attack from their enemies.
​Having been very successful in his winter's trade, Cadotte again returned the following autumn, intending to pass another winter at his former post. He sent word as before to the Lac du Flambeau band of his purpose and as he passed Lac Coutereille the hunters of this village followed him down the Chippeway River. It was the custom of the traders in those days to take with them to different wintering posts small quantities of "eau de vie," which, when their hunters had all assembled around them, they made a present of to the principal chiefs, for their people to have a grand frolic.
To the inland bands, this great indulgence came around but once a year, and they looked forward to it with the greatest longing. On receiving their liquor, the chief would generally appoint several of his warriors as masters of the approaching debauch. They would first go around, and collecting the guns, axes, knives and other weapons which a drunken man might be apt to use, if at hand, they would hide them away, and act during the frolic as guardians and mediators between such as possessed bad tempers and quarrelled with one another over their cups. When the camp had once more returned to their sober senses, these several warriors would, in their turn, have their frolic.
On this occasion, when Michel Cadotte had arrived and camped at his old post, the chief of the Lac Coutereille village called on him, and formally demanded the usual present of fire-water given at the opening of the fall hunts. The trader refused to comply with his request, on the ground that the Lac du Flambeau band had not yet arrived, but being daily expected, he would wait till they had camped together, before he gave them their usual present of liquor. The chief went off apparently satisfied, but having waited two whole days in vain for the expected band, his longings for a dram were such that he again ​paid Mons. Cadotte a visit, and this time he peremptorily demanded the fire-water, using the most threatening language in hopes of intimidating him to do as he wished. The trader, however, firmly refused, and the Indian finally left the lodge in a great rage. His camp lay on the opposite side of the river, about two hundred yards across. He embarked in his canoe, and paddled over, all the time uttering the most abusive and threatening language. Arriving at his water's side, he leaped ashore, and running to his lodge for his gun, he again ran out, and commenced firing at Mons. Cadotte's lodge. He had discharged his gun three times (nearly killing the wife of the trader), when the war-chief of his band ran to him, and wresting the gun out of his hands, he was on the point of breaking the stock over his head, when other Indians interfered. Many of his own people were so enraged at this foolish act of their civil chief, that his life would have been taken, had not Cadotte himself interfered to save him.
When the Lac du Flambeau band (whose chief was a man of decided character, and an uncle of the trader's wife), arrived on the Chippeway River, a few miles below the scene of this occurrence, they were so exasperated that they refused to come up and camp with the Lac Coutereille band, but sent messengers to invite Mons. Cadotte to come and locate himself for the winter in their midst. The trader, to punish the chief who had treated him so badly, though he now showed the deepest contrition, accepted the invitation of his Lac du Flambeau relatives, and proceeding some distance down the river, he wintered with them at the mouth of Jump River.
The following autumn, Michel Cadotte again returned to the Chippeway River, and this time he proceeded with his Indian hunters to the outskirts of the prairies which stretch up this river for about eighty miles above its confluence with the Mississippi. In descending the upper ​falls on this river in their canoes, he lost two of his "coureurs du bois," who were upset in the rapids and drawn into a whirlpool. His post, during this winter, was located in such a dangerous neighborhood to the Dakotas, that he built a wall of logs around his shanty, while his hunters did the same around their camp.
During the winter the Dakotas gradually approached them in a large camp, and Cadotte, to prevent his hunters from leaving him, determined to try if a temporary peace could not be effected between them. He collected about one hundred men, and, supplying them with plenty of ammunition, he proceeded at their head to the Dakota camp, which lay about half a day's march down the river. The Dakotas materially outnumbered them, and they showed every disposition for a fight, as the Ojibways made their appearance with a white flag and pipe of peace. It happened that they, too, had their trader with them, an old pioneer, named La Roque, the father of the respected old gentleman of this name who still resides at the foot of Lake Pepin, and who is well known to all the old settlers on the Upper Mississippi.
The efforts of this man, in conjunction with Mons. Cadotte, effected on this occasion a temporary peace between the two hostile parties, and they passed the remainder of the winter in feasting and hunting with one another. From this time may be dated the terms of temporary peace, which almost each winter these two camps, being nearly equal in numbers, made with one another, in order that they might pursue their hunts in security. Like other bands of their tribes, however, notwithstanding the winter's peace, they appeared to consider it an unavoidable duty to pass the summer in destroying one another.
The warfare which this division of the Ojibways waged with the Dakotas of the Wabasha and Red Wing villages, ​was as bloody and unremitting as the feud which was being carried on by the St. Croix and Upper Mississippi divisions of their tribe with the Kaposia, Warpeton, and Sisseton Dakotas. The country of their present occupation is covered with spots where the warriors of either tribe have met in mortal strife. Almost every bend on Chippeway and Menominee rivers has been the scene of a fight, surprise, or bloody massacre, and one of their chiefs remarked with truth when asked to sell his lands, that "the country was strewn with the bones of their fathers, and enriched with their blood."
From the time we have mentioned, when Cadotte wintered on the outskirts of the western prairies, the Ojibways may be considered as having taken actual possession of the valuable hunting region stretching from Lake Superior nearly three hundred miles to the lower Falls of the Chippeway River, within two days' march of the Mississippi.
Through the efforts and influence of their early traders, peace was occasionally effected. John Baptiste and Michel Cadotte on the part of the Ojibways, and Mons. La Roque on the part of the Dakotas, are mentioned, and deserve much credit, as often having arrested the blow of the war-club, and changing what would have been scenes of bloodshed and death to those of peace and rejoicing. These terms of peace were generally short and transient, and seldom lasted the full length of a year. For no sooner than spring and summer again came around, the time of pastime and recreation for the red hunters, than a longing desire seized the warriors for blood and renown, or revenge for old injuries, or to wipe away the paint of mourning for the death of some near relative. The villagers of either tribe never considered the pleasures of the general summer season as complete, without the enjoyment of dancing and singing merrily around the scalp lock of an enemy.
​Were accounts of all the acts of treachery after a formal peace, the fights, massacres, and surprises which have occurred during the past century between these two warlike divisions of the Ojibway and Dakotas to be collected and written, they would fill a large volume. In our present work we have space only to give a few characteristic instances, illustrating the nature of the warfare they have waged with one another. Scenes or events, where acts of unusual courage and bravery have been performed by any of their warriors, are long remembered in the tribe, and are related with great minuteness in their winter evening lodge gatherings, for the amusement and benefit of the rising generation.
The following circumstance is one of this nature, which deserves record in the annals of these warlike people:—
One summer about the year 1795, a noted war-chief of Lac Coutereille named "The Big Ojibway," having recently lost some near relatives at the hands of the Dakotas, raised a small war party consisting of twenty-three men, and proceeded at their head towards the West, to revenge the blow on their enemies. They reached the mouth of the Chippeway River without meeting with any fresh signs of the Dakotas. Arriving on the banks of the Mississippi, however, they beheld long rows of lodges on the opposite shore, and from the beating of drums and dancing, which they could hear and perceive was being performed by their enemies, they judged that they were preparing to go to war.
Under this impression, the Ojibway war party laid an ambush at a spot peculiarly adapted for the purpose, by a thick forest of trees which grew to the very banks of the Chippeway River. Scouts were placed at the entry of this stream, directly opposite the Dakota encampment, to watch the departure of the expected war party. Early the ​next morning the Dakotas were seen to embark in their wooden canoes, to the number of about two hundred men, and proceed up the current of the Chippeway. The watchful scouts, after being fully satisfied of the course the enemy was about to take, ran to their leader, and informed him of all that which they had observed.
The numbers of the Dakotas made it an act of almost certain self-destruction for the small Ojibway party to attack them, and the more prudent and fearful advised their chief to make a quiet retreat. His determination, however, was fixed, and bidding such as feared death to depart and leave him, he prepared himself for the coming conflict. Not one of his little party left his side, and they awaited in silence the moment that the enemy would pass by their place of ambush. Soon the Dakotas made their appearance, singing their war-songs, and paddling their canoes slowly up the rapid current of the river.
Arriving opposite the unsuspected ambuscade of the Ojibways, a volley was suddenly fired amongst them, killing three of their most prominent warriors, and wounding many others. The Ojibways waited not to reload their guns, but springing up, they ran for their lives, in hopes that in the first confusion of their sudden attack, the Dakotas would not immediately pursue, and thus give them a chance for escape. They were, however, disappointed, for their enemy lost no time in leaping ashore and following their footsteps. The Ojibway leader was a large, portly man, and unable to run for any distance. He soon fell in the rear, and though the yells of the Dakotas were plainly heard apparently fast gaining on them, his little party refused his entreaties to leave him to his fate. At last he stopped altogether, and addressing his warriors, he bade them to leave him, and save their lives, for he had not brought them there to leave their bones to whiten the prairie. For his part, he knew that he must die. His ​guardian spirit had foretold it to him in a dream, but in the mean time he would stand between them and their pursuers, that they might return in safety to their people. His comrades reluctantly left him, and to a man they arrived at their homes in safety. The Dakotas, at a peace party, afterwards told of the last brave struggle of the "Big Ojibway." They found him seated in a clump of tall grass, on a small prairie, calmly smoking his pipe. The van of the Dakotas stopped suddenly at seeing him, and commenced leaping from side to side to distract his aim, as they expected him to fire in their midst: but the Ojibway warrior appearing to take no notice of them, they ceased their dodging, and awaited the arrival of the whole party, being uncertain in what light to consider the conduct of their fearless and stoical enemy, and fearful that it was some ruse to decoy them into an ambush of a larger party of the enemy, than had yet appeared.
When the Dakotas had all assembled, they gradually and cautiously surrounded the warrior, and when they had discovered the fact of his being entirely alone, they commenced firing at him. At the first volley the brave man fell forward as if dead, and the Dakotas in a body ran forward to secure his scalp. As they reached him, he suddenly sprang up, and shooting down the foremost warrior, he rushed among the thickest ranks, and dispatched another with the stock of his gun; then drawing his knife, he continued to fight till pierced by many spear points and barbed arrows, he fell on his knees. Still, his blood welling from many a gaping wound, he yelled his war-whoop, and fairly kept his numerous enemies at bay, till, weakened by loss of blood and continued wounds, the bravest of the Dakotas grappled with him, and seizing his scalp lock, severed with his knife the head from his body. It is said that during the whole fight, the Ojibway warrior had laughed at his enemies, and his face, after the head had ​been separated from his body, was still wreathed in a smile.
Such a high notion did the Dakotas entertain of his bravery, that they cut out his heart, which, being cut into small pieces, was swallowed by their warriors raw, in the belief that it would make them equally "strong hearted." The length of time which the "Big Ojibway" had retarded the pursuit of the Dakotas, enabled his little war party to make their escape, and they always attributed their salvation on this trying occasion to the manly courage and self-sacrifice of their chief, whose name will long be remembered in the traditions of his people.
In the year 1798, a handful of Ojibway warriors fought a severe battle with a large party of Dakotas, at Prairie Rice Lake. As this lake has been the scene of several engagements between these two tribes, a brief description of its position, size, and advantages will not be considered amiss. On Mons. Nicollet's map, it is named Mille Lacs, and empties its waters into Red Cedar, a tributary of Chippeway River. Mr. Nicollet, who has given us a map which may be considered as generally correct, must, however, have been misinformed in the name, and somewhat in the position of this lake. It has always been known to the Ojibways by the name of Mush-ko-da-mun-o-min-e-kan, meaning Prairie Rice Lake, and to the French as Lac la Folle. During a two years' residence (in 1840–41) in the vicinity of this lake, and especially during a tour which the writer made through this district of country, in the summer of 1850, circumstances happened which made him fully acquainted with this lake, and the country surrounding it.
It is situated about forty miles directly north of the lower rapids on Chippeway River, where the extensive establishment known as Chippeway Mills is now located. ​Its entire length is about eight miles, but averages less than a quarter of a mile in width. A clear, rapid stream connects it with another lake of nearly equal size, known to the Indians as Sha-da-sag-i-e-gan, or Pelican Lake, and from thence discharges their superfluous waters into the Red Cedar, or Me-nom-in-ee River. A portage of only two miles in length connects Prairie Rice Lake with this river, and the foot of the portage, or the spot where it strikes the river, is twenty miles above its outlet into it. The lake being miry-bottomed, and shallow, is almost entirely covered with wild rice, and so thick and luxuriant does it grow, that the Indians are often obliged to cut passage ways through it for their bark canoes. From the manner in which they gather the rice, and the quantity which a family generally collects during the harvesting season, this lake alone would supply a body of two thousand Indians.
In the fall of 1850, when the writer passed through it, he found it occupied by fifty wigwams of the Ojibways, numbering over five hundred souls. They were busily employed in gathering the rice, camping separately in spots where it grew in the greatest thickness and abundance. The country surrounding the lake is sparsely covered with pine trees, through which fires appear to have occasionally run, burning the smaller trees and thickets, and giving the country a prairie-like appearance, which has given it the Indian name which it at present bears. One single island about four acres in size, and covered with a grove of beautiful elm trees, lies on the bosom of this picturesque lake. In times of danger, the Ojibway "rice makers" have often pitched their wigwams on it for greater security.
From the earliest period of their occupation of the Chippeway River country, the most fearless of the Ojibways came thither each fall of the year, to collect a portion of the abundant rice crop, notwithstanding its close vicinity ​to the Dakota villages, and notwithstanding they lost lives from their sudden attacks almost yearly.
In the year which has been mentioned, several wigwams of the Lac Coutereille band, under the guidance of the war-chief, "Yellow Head," collected at Prairie Rice Lake, to gather wild rice, and as usual in those days of danger, they located themselves on the island. Early one morning the chief called the men of the camp into his lodge, to take a social smoke, when he informed them that he had been visited during the night by his guardian spirit in a dream, and he knew that the Dakotas must be lurking near. He bade them not to go on their usual day's hunt, and sent two young men to go and scout the shores of the lake, to discover some fresh signs of the enemy. The scouts, embarking in a canoe, immediately started on their errand. They had not arrived more than half a mile from the camp, when, approaching the shore, they were fired at by an ambuscade of the enemy. One was killed, and the other, though severely wounded, succeeded, amid volleys of bullets, in pushing his canoe out of their reach.
The men of the Ojibways, hearing the firing, all that were able to bear arms grasped their weapons, and to the number of twenty-five, many of whom were old men and mere boys, embarked in their canoes, and paddled towards the scene of action, to join the fight. The Dakotas, perceiving this movement, sent a body of their warriors to lie in ambush at the spot where they supposed the Ojibways would attempt a landing. The women of the camp, however, seeing the enemy collecting in large numbers to intercept their men, halloed to them, and informing them of the ambuscade, the Ojibways turned about, and landed on the main shore, immediately opposite the island. Intending to attack the Dakotas by land, they sent the canoes back by some women who had come with them for the purpose. Yellow Head, then heading the party, led them ​through a thicket of underbrush towards the point where the enemy were still firing at the scouts.
In passing through these thickets, Yellow Head discovered a Dakota women, holding in her arms a young boy, about two years old, covered with a profuse quantity of wampum and silver ornaments. She was the wife, and the child a son, of a noted Dakota war-chief who had been lately killed by the Ojibways, and she had followed the war party of her people, raised to revenge his death, in order to initiate her little son, and wipe the paint of mourning from her face. In expectation of a fight, the Dakotas had bade her to hide in these thickets, little thinking that they would be the first victims whose scalps would grace the belts of the Ojibways. Yellow Head, on perceiving the woman and child, yelled his fierce war-whoop, and rushing up to her he snatched the boy from her arms, and throwing him with all his force behind him, he bade his aged father (who was following his footsteps) to despatch it. He then pursued the woman, who had arisen, and now fled with great swiftness towards her friends, uttering piercing shrieks for help. The Dakotas, having heard the Ojibway war-yell, and now hearing the cries of their woman, ran, to the number of near one hundred men, to her rescue. A younger warrior of the Ojibways had passed his war-chief, and though seeing the advance of the enemy, he followed up the chase, till, catching up with her, he stabbed her in the back, and was stooping over her body to cut off her head, when his chief called on him to fly, for the Dakotas were on him. Not a moment too soon did the young warrior obey this call, for the spears of the enemy almost reached his back as he turned to fly, and being laden with the bloody head, which he would not drop, the foremost of the Dakotas fast gained on him; but not till he felt the end of a spear point entering his back did he call on his chief to turn and help him. ​Yellow Head, who was noted for his great courage, instantly obeyed the call, and throwing himself behind a pine tree, he shot down the Dakota who had caught up with him, and was almost despatching his comrade. The fallen warrior was dressed in a white shirt, wore a silver medal on his breast, and silver ornaments on his arms. He carried nothing but a spear in his hand, denoting him to be a chief, and the leader of the Dakota war party, He was the uncle of the boy who had just been dispatched, which accounts for the eagerness with which he pursued the Ojibway warrior, keeping so close to his back that his warriors dared not discharge their fire-arms, for fear of hitting him.
The moment the Dakota leader fell, his fellows took cover behind the trees, and Yellow Head, having saved his comrade, who now stood panting by his side, called on his people, "if they were men, to turn and follow his example." But ten out of the twenty-five were brave enough to obey his call, and these, taking cover behind trees and bushes, fought by his side all day. Though the Dakotas ten times outnumbered them, the Ojibways caused them to retreat at nightfall, leaving seven of their warriors dead on the field. The Ojibways lost but three men, besides the scout who had been killed by the ambuscade. Some days after the fight, the Ojibways discovered a number of bodies which the enemy, to conceal their loss, had hid in a swamp adjacent to the battle-field.
The Dakotas, in their occasional "peace makings" with the Ojibways, have generally accorded to them the art of being the best fighters in a thicket or forest, while they claim an equal superiority on the open prairie, being swifter of foot, and better dodgers. The Ojibways claim, also, that they fight with cooler courage than the Dakotas, and that they never throw away their ammunition: and from the general results of their numerous rencontres, ​it must be conceded that they are far the best shots. These things are mentioned to account for the numerous instances where a determined few have committed such havoc in the tanks of the enemy, as almost to surpass belief.
On another occasion, a single lodge of Ojibways located on the shores of Prairie Rice Lake, was attacked by a party of two hundred Dakotas, and all its inmates massacred. The head of the family, a man noted in the wars of those times for great courage, happened to be away, spearing fish, when his family were murdered. Hearing the firing, he ran to their rescue, but arrived only to witness the ashes of his lodge, and the mangled remains of his wife and children. Determined on revenge or death, singly he pursued the enemy, and having caught up with them, he sustained the unequal fight till his ammunition gave out, when, having seen several of the enemy fall under his aim, he turned, and though nearly surrounded, he made his escape. Shortly after, he returned to the field of the fight, and discovered five Dakotas whom he had killed, left by their friends in a sitting posture, facing the west. Having scalped them, he returned, without kin, but loaded with honor, to the village of his people.
About the same time (between fifty and sixty years ago), another family were massacred by the Dakotas at this lake. Le-bud-ee, a son of the old man who was killed on this occasion, raised a small war party during the ensuing winter, and attacked a large lodge of the enemy on Hay River. There were eight men of the Dakotas in the lodge, who returned the fire of the Ojibways very briskly. Becoming desperate at their obstinate defence, Le-bud-ee, followed by one of his bravest comrades, rushed madly forward, and cutting open the leathern covering of the lodge, they entered into a hand to hand conflict with such of the Dakotas as still remained alive. Le-bud-ee's comrade was killed in the act of entering the lodge, while he himself ​jumped in, despatched a warrior with his knife, and had taken two women captive, before the remainder of his party had fairly arrived to his help. This action is related by the Ojibways as one of great courage, as they seldom, in their warfare, come to a hand to hand conflict.
At a peace-making, following soon after this last event, the two captives of Le-bud-ee were returned to the Dakotas.
Many more instances similar in nature to these which have been related in this chapter, might be given to swell the annual record of bloodshed in which the division of the Ojibway tribe under our present consideration were engaged in, during this period of their history, but it is deemed that enough have been presented to illustrate their mode of living, and warfare, and the dangers which daily assailed them in becoming possessed of the country over which their children now claim unquestioned right, over any other tribe of their fellow red men.
In this chapter we have brought down the annals, or history of this section of the Ojibways, to within a half century of the present time.
The grand or principal villages at Lac Coutereille and Lac du Flambeau, had commenced to shoot forth now branches or communities, who located their wigwams on some of the many beautiful lakes and streams which swell the waters of the Chippeway and Wisconsin. Lac Shatac early became a separate village. So also, Ke-che-puk-wa-i-wah, a reservoir or lake through which the Chippeway River passes.
From Lac du Flambeau, a large community branched off down the Wisconsin, who sometimes came in deadly contact with the Winnebagoes, who occupied the country about the Fox River, and who sometimes joined the war parties of their relatives, the Dakotas, against the Ojibways. This custom they followed but seldom, and never openly, as being literally surrounded by tribes of the Algic stock, ​they always feared to enter into an open war with any of their branches or relatives.
Another considerable band located themselves at Suk-a-aug-un-ing towards Green Bay. They are now known as the Pelican Lake band. In 1848 this band numbered over two hundred souls. They have since been nearly cut off by the smallpox, and other diseases introduced among them by the white population, which has spread over this portion of their former country.
* ↑ A.D. 1852.
* ↑ A.D. 1852.