Owindia : a true tale of the MacKenzie River Indians, North-West AmericaBompas, Charlotte Selina
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Owindia : a true tale of the MacKenzie River Indians, North-West America
Bompas, Charlotte Selina
Foundlings -- Fiction; Indians of North America -- Canada -- Fiction; Murder -- Fiction
A very marked feature in the character of the Indian is jealousy.
How far the white man may be answerable, if not for the first impulse
of this, at all events for its development, it were perhaps better
not to inquire. The schoolboy is often first taught jealousy by the
undisguised partiality for his more attractive or highly gifted
companion, evinced by his teachers; the Indians are at present in
most respects but children, and they are keenly sensitive to the
treatment they receive from those, who, in spite of many benefits
bestowed, they cannot but look upon as invaders of their soil, and
intruders upon some of their prerogatives. In our Mission work we
find this passion of jealousy often coming into play. It is most
difficult to persuade the parents to trust us with their children,
not because they doubt our care of them, but for fear of their
children's affections being alienated from their own people. It is
sometimes hard for the same reason to get the parents to bring their
children to Holy Baptism: "You will give my boy another name, and he
will not be 'like mine' any more."
And Michel the Hunter was but an average type of the Indian
character; of a fiery, ardent nature, and unschooled affections, he
never forgot a wrong done him in early youth by a white man. His
sweetheart was taken from him, cruelly, heartlessly, mercilessly,
during his absence, without note or sign or warning, while he was
working with all energy to make a home for the little black-eyed
maiden, who had promised to be his bride. If Michel could but once
have seen the betrayer to have given vent to his feelings of scorn,
rage, and indignation! To have asked him, as he longed to ask him, if
this was his Christian faith, his boasted white man's creed! To have
asked if in those thousand miles he had traversed to reach the red
man's home, there were no girls suited to his mind, save only the one
betrothed to Indian Michel! He would have asked, too, if it were not
enough to invade his country, build houses, plant his barley and
potatoes, and lay claim to his moose-deer and bear, his furs and
peltries, but he must needs touch, with profane hands, his home
treasures, and meddle with that which "even an Indian" holds sacred?
It might, perchance, have been better for Michel if he could have
spoken out and unburdened himself of his deep sense of wrong and
injury, which from henceforth lay like a hot iron in his heart. The
Italian proverb says, "It is better to swear than to brood;" and
whether this be true or not, it is certain that having to swallow his
resentment, and endure his agony in silence, embittered Michel's
spirit, and made him the jealous, sensitive, taciturn man he
afterwards became. And among many other consequences of his youth's
tragedy was an unconquerable horror of the white man; not but that,
after a time, he would work for a white man, and trade with him, so
long as he need not look upon him. He would send even his wife (for
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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