The Leech Lake Indians were then stated to be numerous, although, in common with other northern bands, they had also suffered from the general ravages of the small pox, in this region, two years previous. They were, however, then, as now, deemed a turbulent band, and such was the fear of giving additional excitement to their passions, that the liquor which was sold to them, was put in cache at the entrance of the river, that it might not be delivered to them, until the traders had finished their traffic, (which on that occasion, occupied but a single day,) and embarked on their return for Michilimackinac. Besides the original robbery of a principal trader, which drew upon them the name of Pillagers, their intercourse with the traders has been of a character to require perpetual caution to avoid the recurrence of serious difficulties. It is but two years ago that they confined a trader to his lodge, and threatened him, in such a manner, that he was happy to escape from the country with his life, and has not since returned to it.
During the winter of 1821-22, a man named Relle, who was employed at Leech Lake, to collect credits, as it is termed, entered the lodge of a hunter named Puganoc i. e. Nutwood, and without much ceremony, obtained the Indian’s furs. He had as he conceived, got consent which the Indian afterwards withdrew. Relle, however, whose business it was to collect furs for his employer, and who had, from long usage, become expert in that employment, did not pay that deference to the Indian’s wishes, which he probably would have done, could we suppose that he considered them to indicate any more, than a mere reluctance to part with the furs. On this point we are without particular information. Be this as it may, Relle took up the furs, and proceeded homewards. Puganoc followed him but without any demonstrations of anger. It might be supposed that he intended in make a friendly visit to the post, for the purpose of further trading, and Relle evidently so considered the circumstance of his accompanying him, for he was wholly unsuspicious of latent revenge. Silent as this passion was kept, it burned, however, in the Indian’s breast, and, in crossing a lake, on the ice, the Indian treading in the hindmost step, (a practice in walking with snow shoes,) he suddenly discharged his piece. The ball entered his victim’s back below the shoulders. He fell dead. Puganoc then drew his knife, cut off two of the voyageur’s fingers, to make it appear that he had been struggling with an adversary, then threw down the knife on the snow, and returned with a report that the man had been killed by the Sioux.
It may be interesting to notice the fate of Puganoc. Attempts for his surrender to the civil authorities were made, but without success. Meantime he was regarded as having forfeited his life by a young Chippewa of his own band, a relative, perhaps, of the deceased voyageur’s Indian wife. While assembled to amuse themselves by firing at a mark, this young man, as it became his turn to fire, saw Puganoc lifting the cloth door of his tent, and wheeling half a circle in his aim, fired his ball through the neck of the assassin, and killed him on the spot.
Pride, and the desire of personal distinction, as in other tribes which have not the light of christianity to guide them, may be considered as lying at the foundation of the Indian character. For there are no tribes so poor and remote as not to have pride. And this passion seems always to be coupled with a desire of applause, and with the wish on the part of its possessors to be thought better than they really are. We have found pride in the remotest Indian lodge we ever visited, and have hardly ever engaged in ten minutes conversation with a northern Indian, without discovering it not only to exist, but, where there was moral energy at all, as constituting the primary motive to action. It has always been found, however, unaccompanied by one of its most constant concomitants, in civilised life—namely, the desire of wealth.
The workings of this principle may, indeed, be looked upon as the chief motive of Indian emigration, and as causing tribe to secede from tribe, and leading to that multiplication of petty nations, each with some peculiarities of language, which marks the face of the northern regions. Did we possess any thing like a clear and connected tradition of these migrations, even for a few hundred years, we should perhaps have cause to blush that so many blunders had been committed in assigning so many primitive stocks, when, in fact, there is great reason to believe, that the primitive stocks are few.
Tradition does not reach far, where there is neither pen nor pencil to perpetuate the memory of events. People who are constantly and habitually concerned, how they shall subsist, and what they shall wear, will soon forget, in the realities before them, occurrences which can no longer produce fear or excite hope. And were it otherwise,—were they as prone to reflect as they are to act, the very misery in which they live, would take away the pleasure of historical reminiscence. Oral history is very uncertain at best. Every repetition varies the language at least, and it must be a very stoical people, indeed, who, in repeating their own story, do not add to the coloring, if not the number of circumstances, which serve to give pleasure or to flatter pride. Unfortunately such appears to have been the state of the north-western Indians, as far as we know any thing of them, that they could not, in strict truth, repeat very little of their history, without giving pain, or exciting feelings, often of pity, and often of humiliation. The few favorable points would naturally grow by the process of repetition, out of all proportion. And fiction would often be called on, to supply lapses. Hence it is, perhaps, that in looking over our printed materials for Indian history, we are so apt to find that every tribe arrogates to itself the honor of being original, great, brave, magnanimous, above its neighbors. Indeed we regard all unrecorded Indian tradition, referring to events beyond the close of the sixteenth century, as entitled to no confidence.
The names the Indians bestowed upon themselves, contain no clue to their early history. They were, for the most part purely accidental, as they are at this day. They do not refer to their origin. They do not in some cases, even signify their peculiarities. This is, we think, emphatically true of the various tribes of Algonquins. To part of the people composing this stock, who were settled in a country abounding in lakes and streams, they gave the local name of Nipissings, i. e. People of the Place of Waters. Part, who lived on the north shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, subsisting on fish, they called Popinoshees, alluding to a kind of fish. Those who dwelt in swampy grounds, (as between that point and Lake Superior,) were called Mushkeegos, from the name for swamp. Those who lived in plains, south-west of Lake Michigan, Muscotins, from plain. Others having a peculiarity of intonation, were called Ojibwas, or Chippewas; a band who lit up a council fire for themselves, Pottawattomies; another band, given to trading. Ottawas; another who inflicted cruelties in their northern wars, Kenistonos; another who lived inland, Nopimings. Others might be added to the list. These were all identical people; but not one of the name referred to their origin. The French, on their arrival increased the confusion, by bestowing a new name upon each, rendering the thread of history more entangled, and utterly confounding all attempts to trace their affiliation by etymology. They called the first band whom they found speaking this language, on the St. Lawrence, Algonquins, probably because they subsisted on the oga. This term has become generic. But there is no light thrown by it on the history of the race. Nay, there is not a particle of proof that the Indians had bestowed it upon themselves, or that it was not given like all their other appellations, as a mere nom de guerre. No wonder should therefore be expressed, that classifications founded on etymological proofs should have been found defective.
But we shall not pursue the subject. The Leech Lake Indians, like others of the stock, derive their distinctive appellation from a mere accident. They are not, however,