The chief of this Chippewa village is a very extraordinary character. His name is Shinguaconse, _the Little Pine_, but he chooses to drop the adjunct, and calls himself the Pine. He is not an hereditary chief, but an elective or war-chief, and owes his dignity to his bravery and to his eloquence; among these people, a man who unites both is sure to obtain power. Without letters, without laws, without any arbitrary distinctions of rank or wealth, and with a code of morality so simple, that upon _that_ point they are pretty much on a par, it is superior natural gifts, strength, and intelligence, that raise an Indian to distinction and influence. He has not the less to fish for his own dinner, and build his own canoe. Shinguaconse led a band of warriors in the war of 1812, was at Fort Malden, and in the battle of the Moravian towns. Besides being eloquent and brave he was a famous conjuror. He is now a Christian, with all his family; and Mr. MacMurray finds him a most efficient auxiliary in ameliorating the condition of his people. When the traders on the opposite side endeavoured to seduce him back to his old habit of drinking, he told them, "When I wanted it you would not give it to me; now I do not want it you try to force it upon me; drink it yourselves!" and turned his back. The ease with which liquor is procured from the opposite shore, and the bad example of many of the soldiers and traders are, however, a serious obstacle to the missionary's success. Nor is the love of whisky confined to the men. Mrs. MacMurray imitated with great humour the deportment of a tipsy squaw, dragging her blanket after her, with one corner over her shoulder, and singing, in most blissful independence and defiance of her lordly husband, a song, of which the burden is,-- "The Englishman will give me some of his milk! I will drink the Englishman's milk!" Her own personal efforts have reclaimed many of these wretched creatures. Next to the passion for ardent spirits is the passion for gambling. Their common game of chance is played with beans, or with small bones, painted of different colours; and these beans have been as fatal as ever were the dice in Christendom. They will gamble away even their blankets and moccasins; and while the game lasts not only the players but the lookers-on, are in a perfect ecstacy of suspense and agitation.