Adventures of the Ojibbeway and Ioway Indians in England, France, and Belgium; Vol. 2 (of 2): being Notes of Eight Years' Travels and Residence in Europe with his North American Indian CollectionCatlin, George
History
Adventures of the Ojibbeway and Ioway Indians in England, France, and Belgium; Vol. 2 (of 2): being Notes of Eight Years' Travels and Residence in Europe with his North American Indian Collection
Catlin, George
England -- Description and travel; France -- Description and travel; Indians of North America
"'My friend,' said he, 'you have said enough: if you tell me that
your friend, or the friend or the enemy of any man, takes the hand
of a fair daughter on that ground to-night, an Ioway chief will not
offend the Great Spirit by raising the war-cry there. No Ioway can
spill the blood of an enemy on the ground where the hands and the
hearts of man and woman are joined together. This is the command of
the Great Spirit, and an Ioway warrior cannot break it. My friend,
these warriors you see around me with myself had sworn to kill the
first human being we met on our war excursion; we shall not harm
you, so you see that I give you your life. You will therefore keep
your lips shut, and we will return in peace to our village, which is
far up the river, and we shall hereafter meet our friends, the white
people, in the great city,[25] as we have heretofore done, and we
have many friends there. We shall do no harm to any one. My face is
now blackened, and the night is dark, therefore you cannot know me;
but this arrow you will keep--it matches with all the others in my
quiver, and by it you can always recognize me, but the meeting of
this night is not to be known.' He gave me the arrow, and with these
words turned his canoe, and joining his companions was in a moment
out of sight. My arrow being passed under my hat-band, and finding
that the current had by this time drifted me down a mile or two below
the place where I designed to land, and beyond the power of reaching
it with my two awkward logs of wood, I steered my course onward
toward St. Louis, rapidly gliding over the surface of the broad
river, and arrived safely at the shore in front of the town at a late
hour in the night, having drifted a distance of more than thirty-five
miles. My two logs were an ample price for a night's lodging, and
breakfast and dinner the next day; and I continued my voyage in a
Mackinaw boat on the same day to _Vide Pouche_, a small French town
about twenty miles below, where my business required my presence. The
wedding party proceeded undisturbed, and the danger they had been in
was never made known to them, as I promised the War-chief, who gave
me as the condition of my silence the solemn promise, that he would
never carry his feelings of revenge upon innocent persons any farther.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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