University of Virginia Library

“That trees are great promoters of lakes and rivers, appears from a well known fact in North America; for, since the woods and forests have been grubbed and cleared, all bodies of water that were considerable a century ago, will not now drive a common mill.” Natural History of Selborne—

By some writers the word was written Tyrondequait, by others Irondequat. Smith in his history of New York, alludes to a public trading house “at Irondequat in the Senecas' land.” The name given on modern maps, to this romantic bay, is “Irondequoit.”

The author's father, a pioneer of Western New York, informed him, that in the first settlement of the country, he saw a flock of twenty swans “spreading their snowy sails” in the Bay of Irondequoit. Two or three summers since, a brother of the author shot a swan, of large dimensions, while flying over a pond in the vicinity of Avon; and more recently, one was killed in Irondequoit Bay, by a gentleman of Rochester.

The Indians rear a breed of dogs crossed with the wolf and fox—remarkable for their speed, sharp noses, and pointed, upright ears.

Cadaracqui is the aboriginal name of Ontario. “The Senecas (whom the French call Sonontouons) are situated between Lake Erie and Cadaracqui Lake, near the great fall of Iagara (sometimes called Oniagira, Ochniagara,) by which all the Indians that live round Lake Erie, round the Lake of the Hurons, round the Lake of the Illinois, or Michigan, and round the great Upper Lake, generally pass in their way to Canada.”

Yonnondio was a title originally given by the Five Nations to M. de Montmagny, but became a style of address in their treaties, by which succeeding Governor Generals of New France were designated.

“The Five Nations were the Mohawks, the Oneidas, the Cayugas, the Onondagas, and the Senecas. The Virginian Indians gave them the name of Massowamokes; the Dutch called them Maquas, or Makakuase; and the French, Iroquois. Their appellation at home was the Mingoes, and sometimes the Aganuschion, or United People.”

“When the Dutch began the settlement of this country, all the Indians on Long Island and the northern shore of the sound, on the banks of the Connecticut, Hudson, Delaware, and Susquehanna rivers, were in subjection to the Five Nations, and acknowledged it by the payment of tribute. The French historians of Canada, both ancient and modern, agree that the more northern Indians were driven before the superior martial prowess of the confederates. The author of the book entitled, ‘Relation de ce qui s'est passe de plus remarquable aux missions de peres, de la compagnie de Jesus en la nouvelle France,’ published with the privilege of the French King, at Paris, in 1661, informs us that all the Northern Indians were harassed by the Five Nations. ‘Partout, (says he, speaking in the name of the missionaries,) nous trouvons Iroquois, qui comme un fantôme importun, nous obséde en tous lieux.’”

De la Barre was succeeded by the Marquis De Nonville, colonel of the dragoons, who arrived with a reinforcement in 1685. In the preceding year the French availed themselves of a peace with the Five Nations, to build fortifications on the northern waters, and extending their fur trade among the northern and western Indians. They were opposed by the Iroquois. The Senecas, who were the most numerous of the allied tribes, and nearest the theatre of action, annoyed the French, by cutting off trading parties laden with ammunition and arms for the tribes who hunted for them.

De la Barre collected at Cadaracqui Fort (now Kingston,) the forces of Canada, but sickness in his camp compelled him to abandon his military operations against the Five Nations, and resort to negotiation. A treaty was held at Kaihohage, between Indian deputies, with Garangula at their head, and the Canadian Governor. It was on this occasion that the Onondaga chief in a harangue that has been pronounced by the lamented Clinton equal in oratorical merit to Logan's famous speech, exclaimed:— “Yonnondio!—you must have believed when you left Quebec, that the sun had burnt up all the forests which render our country inaccessible to the French, or that the lakes had so far overflown the banks, that they had surrounded our castles, and that it was impossible for us to get out of them. Yes, surely you must have dreamed so, and the curiosity of seeing so great a wonder, has brought you so far. Now you are undeceived. I and the warriors here present, are come to assure you, that the Senecas, Cayugas, Onondagas, Oneidas, and Mohawks are yet alive. I thank you in their name, for bringing back into their country the calumet, which you predecessor received from their hands. It was happy for you, that you left underground that murdering hatchet so often dyed in the blood of the French.

“Hear, Yonnondio! I do not sleep. I have my eyes open. The sun which enlightens me, discovers to me a great captain at the head of a company of soldiers, who speaks as if he were dreaming. He says, that he only came to the lake to smoke on the great calumet with the Onondagas. But Garangula says he sees the contrary; that it was to knock them on the head, if sickness had not weakened the arms of the French. I see Yonnondio raving in the camp of sick men, whose lives the Great Spirit has saved by inflicting this sickness on them.

“Hear, Yonnondio! our women had taken their clubs, our children and old men had carried their bows and arrows into the heart of your camp, if our warriors had not disarmed them, and kept them back, when your messenger came to our castles. It is done, and I have said it.

“Hear, Yonnondio!—We plundered none of the French, but those that carried guns, powder and balls to the Twightwies and Chictaghicks, because those arms might have cost us our lives. Herein we follow the example of the Jesuits, who break all the kegs of rum brought to our castles, lest the drunken Indians should knock them on the head. Our warriors have not beaver enough to pay for all the arms they have taken, and our old men are not afraid of the war. This belt preserves my words. We carried the English into our Lakes to trade there with the Utawawas and Anatoyhies, as the Adirondacks brought the French to our castles to carry on a trade which the English say is theirs. We are born free. We neither depend on Yonnondio or Corlear (name given to the Governors of New York). We may go where we please, and carry with us whom we please, and buy and sell what we please. If your allies be your slaves, use them as such, command them to receive no other but your people.” When the words of Garangula were interpreted to De La Barre, stung with shame and incensed, he left the council. Soon after, his troops disbanded, and the haughty Iroquois exulted in this signal overthrow of the Governor's schemes.

The Marquis De Nonville, says Smith in his history, was a man of courage and of an enterprising spirit, and not a little animated by the consideration that he was sent over to repair the disgrace which his predecessor had brought upon the French Colony. By Charlevoix he is thus eulogized—“Egalement estimable pour sa valeur, sa droiture et sa piété.” La Hontan censures his acts while administering the government of New France, in violating the treaty of Whitehall, by invading the country of the Senecas, and denying the British title to the command of the Lake. In the language of Smith, “De Nonville, to prevent the interruption of the French trade with the Twightwies, determined to carry the war into the country of the Five Nations. To that end he collected, in 1687, two thousand troops and six hundred Indians at Montreal, and issued orders to all the officers in the more westerly country to meet him at Niagara, on an expedition against the Senecas. * * * * * * * The Five Nations, in the mean time, were preparing to give the French army a suitable reception.

The Marquis having embarked his whole army in canoes, set out from the fort at Cadaracqui, on the 23d of June, one-half of them passing along the north and the other on the south side of the lake, and both arrived at the same time at Irondequoit, and shortly after set out on their march towards the chief village of the Senecas, at about seven leagues' distance. The main body was composed of the regulars and militia, the front and rear of the Indians and traders. The scouts advanced the second day of their march, as far as the corn of the village, and within pistol shot of five hundred Senecas who lay upon their bellies undiscovered. The French who imagined the enemy were all fled, quickened their march to overtake the women and old men. But no sooner had they reached the foot of a hill, about a mile from the village, than the Senecas raised a war-shout, and in the same instant charged upon the whole army, both in the front and rear. Universal confusion ensued. The battalions divided, fired upon each other and flew into the wood.

The Senecas improved the disorder of the enemy, till they were overpowered by the force of numbers and compelled to retreat. The Marquis was so much dispirited that he could not be persuaded to pursue the enemy that day; which gave the Senecas an opportunity to burn their village and get off. Traces of De Nonville's invasion are still visible upon the banks of the Genesee. Near the village of West Rush, Monroe County, the traveller and tourist can still see the ruins of a fortified encampment. Outlines of mortar bed, trench and mound are well defined. The author is in possession of fragments of gun and blade, picked up on the old battle-field which lies at the foot of a hill on which the present village of Avon is situated.

It is a favorite haunt and play-place of the school-boy, who is lured thither by the hope of finding flint or musket-ball, hatchet or arrow-heads, disinterred by the plough, or washed to view by the drenching shower.

The immediate design of other religious societies was to separate their members from the world; that of the Jesuits, to render themselves masters of it. They were exempt from the usual functions of other monks, and were not required to spend their time in ceremonial offices and mummeries. The meanest talents were in requisition, and according to their own expression “the Jesuits have missionaries for the villages and martyrs for the Indians.” Thus a peculiar energy was infused into their operations; which has been compared to a system of mechanism containing the greatest quality of power distributed to the greatest possible advantage. “The Jesuits,” it was said with justice, “are a naked sword whose hilt is Rome.” They propagated a system of the most relaxed morality, which accommodated itself to the passions of men, justified their vices, tolerated their imperfections. To persons of the stricter principles they studied to recommend themselves by the purity of their lives. While looking with a lenient eye on immoral practices, they were severe in exacting a strict orthodoxy in opinions. “They are a set of people,” said the Abbe Boileau, “who lengthen the creed, and shorten the decalogue.” One of their cardinal precepts was as follows: “Princes and distinguished persons must by all means be so managed that their ears may be gained, which will secure their hearts.” They neither chaunted nor prayed. “They cannot sing,” said their enemies—“for birds of prey never do.”

“In the beginning of the 17th century they obtained from the court of Madrid, the grant of the large and fertile Province of Paragua, which stretches across the southern continent of America, from the mountains of Potosi to the banks of the river La Plata; and after every deduction which can reasonably be made from their own accounts, enough will remain, to excite the astonishment and applause of mankind. By wise and humane policy they attracted converts, till at last they formed a powerful and well organized state of 300,000 families.

“Industry was universal, want was unknown. Even the elegant arts began by degrees to appear, and full protection was provided against any invasion. An army of 60,000 men was completely armed, and regularly disciplined, consisting of cavalry, infantry and artillery, and well provided with magazines and munitions of war. It would be in vain to deny that mankind derived advantages from the labors of the Jesuits. Their ardor in improving the healing art, their skill in the instruction of youth and love of ancient literature, contributed to the progress of polite learning. Even the debased species of Christianity which they introduced, was superior to the bloody rites of the savage.”

“Among a people in the infancy of reflection and improvement, the deities themselves are not so much the objects of attention, as the great changes and revolutions of nature, to which they are conceived to give rise. To avert the calamities which threaten them, is, therefore, the chief concern of the rude tribes scattered over the American continent.

“In order to effectuate this purpose, they have not recourse, as among nations more civilized, to prayers and penance, offerings and victims; but to charms, amulets, and incantations, which are fancied to have the power of saving them from all events of a disastrous nature.”

Dr. Smith says, “The hunters assure us that the elk possesses the power, by strictly closing the nostrils, of forcing the air through these apertures (meaning a slit or depression below the inner angle of each eye, called by French naturalists larmiers,) in such a manner as to make a noise which may be heard at a great distance.” This, however, is inaccurate; it is true that the elk, when alarmed, or his attention strongly excited, makes a whistling noise at the moment these lachrymal appendages are opened, and vibrates in a peculiar manner. But having dissected these appendages in an elk, recently dead, we are perfectly assured that there is no communication between the nostrils of the animal and these sacs.”

Many tribes of the continent, particularly the New-England Indians, were in the habit of sending messengers to kindred nations on the eve of battle with a common enemy, bearing a sheaf of arrows bound together by the skin of the rattlesnake. The rude symbol was an invitation to dig up the hatchet.

By mimicking the cry of beast or bird, known to frequent the place from which the sound proceeds, an Indian scout communicates good or evil tidings to his tribe; when a party of warriors stop on their route to lie in ambush for enemies they understand to be out against them, they range themselves cautiously on both sides the expected path, frequently in a half moon line, and as far apart as they can hear the travelling signal from each other, which is either a low whistle, or cry of some wild creature of the woods imitated with surprising accuracy. See Adair and Charlevoix.

The remains of an extensive Indian orchard may still be seen on the western bank of the Genesee. The wind-bowed and mossy trunks have a desolate appearance, as if they shared in the miseries of the race who planted them. The early settlers of Avon, discovered peach-trees growing in the forest on the site of an old corn-field of the Indians, the fruit of which was of good flavor.

A few years since, the council-house at Cannewaugus, was standing. When last visited by the author, it was in a state of decay—the roof, overlaid with bark, was falling in, and the storm had partly beaten down the walls. The building was low and about sixty feet in length. In the centre of the roof, which was bark bent to a rounded form over the ridge pole, was an open place for the escape of smoke, when the elders of the tribe were convened in grave deliberation. The confederation of the Iroquois, stretching from the Hudson to Lake Erie, was often compared by their orators to a council-house. In the speech of condolence, addressed by the Mohawk chiefs to the inhabitants of Albany, after the destruction of Schenectady, the perfidy of the French is thus portrayed:—“Brethren, we do not think that what the French have done can be called a victory: it is only a farther proof of their cruel deceit; the Governor of Canada sent to Onondaga, and talks to us of peace with our whole house; but war was in his heart, as you now see by woful experience. He did the same, formerly at Cadaracqui, and in the Senecas' country. This is the third time he has acted so deceitfully. He has broken open our house at both ends; formerly in the Senecas' country, and now here. We hope, however, to be revenged of them.”

The chichikon is formed of a thick cane upwards of two feet in length, with eight or nine holes, and a mouth-piece not unlike that of a common whistle.

Scalps preserved as trophies of victory, were cured, hooped, and painted by the Indians with marks on the flesh side expressive of the age and sex of the slain. In the letter of James Crawford to Col. Haldiman, Governor of Canada, appended to Stone's Life of Brant, is a description of eight packages of scalps taken by the Seneca Indians from the inhabitants of New York. To denote scalps taken from farmers killed in their houses, the skin was painted brown, and marked with a hoe—a black circle signified that they were surprised in the night, and a black hatchet in the middle that they were killed with that weapon. The hair on the scalps of the women was braided in the Indian fashion, to show that they were mothers. The hoops were blue, skin yellow ground, with little red tadpoles, to represent, by way of triumph, the tears of grief occasioned to their relations. Seventeen gray-haired scalps were stretched on black hoops of brown color, with no mark but the short club or cassetete, to show they were knocked down dead, or had their brains beaten out!

“The calumet and all its ornaments, when they treat of war, are painted red. The size of the pipe and the degree of decoration correspond to the importance of the occasion.” Indian Wars. When war is contemplated, the tomahawk is also colored with red.

Each Indian nation has a distinct ensign, generally consisting of some beast, bird, or fish; and the pictures of these animals are pricked or painted on the arms or breast. The known mark of a tribe or chief on the person of a captive, is a protection from danger at other hands. Brant, at the destruction of Cherry Valley, saved a woman and her children by painting his cognizance upon them. See Stone's Life of Brant. “Each of the Five Nations is divided into three families of different ranks, bearing for their arms, and being distinguished by the names of the tortoise, the bear and the wolf.”—Smith. “Sometimes the design of a military expedition is painted on the naked trunk of a tree. By a deer, a fox or some other emblems, we discover against what nation they are gone out.”—

“It is the first and the last study of the American Indians, to acquire the faculty of suffering with an obstinate and heroic courage when their fortitude is put to the proof. They harden their fibres by repeated trials, and accustom themselves to endure the most tormenting pain without a groan or a tear. In the northern division of the continent, a boy and a girl will put a flaming coal between their naked arms, and vie with one another in maintaining it in its place.” (Charlevoix III. 307.) “Forbear,” said an aged chief of the Iroquois to the French Indians, “forbear these stabs of your knife; and rather let me die by fire, that those dogs, your allies, may learn, by my example, to suffer like men.”

“The speakers deliver themselves with surprising force, and great propriety of gesture. The fierceness of their countenances, the flowing blanket, elevated tone, naked arm, and erect stature, with a half circle of auditors seated on the ground, and in the open air, cannot but impress upon the mind a lively idea of the ancient orators of Greece and Rome.”—

The career of victory which began with the fall of the Adirondacks, was destined to be extended beyond all precedent in the history of the Indian tribes. They (the Iroquois) exterminated the Eries or Erigas, once living on the south side of the lake of their own name. They nearly destroyed the powerful Anderstez, and the Chouanons or Showanons. They drove back the Hurons and Ottawas among the Sioux of the Upper Mississippi, where they separated themselves into bands, “proclaiming, wherever they went, the terror of the Iroquois.”—

“When war is the result of their deliberations, a chief marches round in a circle, inviting those who are for war to join in the circuitous march, while a war-song serves to rouse their patriotic zeal to the highest pitch, till the whole assembly, kindling into the same ardor, becomes impatient to be led against the enemy.” The following list of the dances in use among the North American Indians, has been given by Mr. Long:—

Of these, the war dance is the most remarkable, and is frequently composed of several of the other dances. It is the exact image of an Indian campaign. It represents the departure of their warriors, their arrival at the confines of the hostile nation, their method of encampment, the attack, the scalping of such as fall into their hands, the return of the victorious tribe, and the tortures and heroism of the prisoners. In performing these parts, the savages exhibit a wonderful dexterity; and enter into them with such enthusiasm, that European spectators have forgotten for a moment that it was only a representation, and have shuddered at the imaginary scene. See Lafitan, Charlevoix, 5.

“Whenever a considerable number of huts are collected, they have a castle, as it is called, consisting of a square without bastions, surrounded with palisadoes. They have no other fortification; and this is only designed as an asylum for their old men, their wives and children, while the rest are gone out to war.”—

The same chivalrous principle of action that prompts the civilized soldier to preserve the colors of his regiment from the disgrace of capture, incites the red forest-warrior, though faint with a death-wound, to preserve his scalp from drying in the lodge of an enemy. This trait of Indian character is well illustrated by the personal combat, in Cooper's Prairie, between Mahtoree and Hard Heart. The latter having received a mortal wound, with a last effort plunges into the stream, hoping vainly that the tide would rob his Pawnee foe of the trophy that he so much craved.

The author's mother, who speaks the Seneca fluently, informed him that by using the term Utco, the Indian referred to the diabolical power from which witches and wizards derive their spirit of mischief. This Great Doer of Evil dwells in an abode of darkness, and controls a countless number of subordinate ministers of ill, who must daily perform their allotted tasks—some sowing the seeds of disease and death, while others bring blight to the corn-field, scare the deer, and derange the hunter's aim.

The Iroquois bore this proud appellation, not only by conquest over other tribes, but by encouraging the people of other nations to incorporate with them; “a Roman principle,” says Thatcher, “recognized in the practice as well as theory of these lords of the forest.”

The wonderful sagacity of the North American savage on a march, or pursuit of a foe through a forest, is too well known to require much comment. On emergency, they put the hinder part of their snow shoes forward, so that if their footsteps should happen to be observed by a vigilant enemy, it might be supposed they had taken a contrary direction. “Sometimes they fix the broad hoofs of buffaloes or bears' paws upon their feet, to deceive the foe; and for miles together, they will make all the customary windings of those animals in the woods. The warrior who brings up the rear, lifts to a natural position the broad grass, and ‘they march, one man behind the other, treading carefully in each other's steps, so that their number may not be ascertained by the prints of their feet.’”—

Their canoes were of two kinds: one was made of a large log excavated, the inside burned and wrought by a stone gouge, and the outside shaped by their stone axe. The second kind was made of birchen bark. “The pirogues or war canoes of the Indians are constructed by hollowing the trunks of large trees with much labor and patience; and, notwithstanding their bulk and gravity, they are moved dexterously through the water. The pirogue is often large enough to contain fifty persons; and in most instances, the workmanship is so neat, and the ornaments so splendid, as to be thought utterly beyond the execution of savages ignorant of the harder metals. The trunk of a tree which they have cut down, and which they design to form into a canoe, often begins to rot before their labor is at an end. Their chisel was of stone, sharpened to an edge. Ignorant of iron, their hatchets and axes were made of stone. Their use dictated a similar shape to ours. A young sapling was split near the ground, the head of the axe thrust into it, and a handle formed with inconsiderable labor.” See Gumilla, Lafitan, Mœurs ii. 213, and Indian Wars.

“They bury with the dead, food, bows and arrows, pipes and whatsoever pleased them while living, or might be necessary in the country of souls. They believe in the immortality of the soul, without the aid of metaphysics. The Chicung, the shadow, that which survives the body, they grossly imagine, will, at death, go into some unknown but curious place.”

They give the first place in the land of spirits to the courageous warrior who has put to death the greatest number of his enemies, and to the hunter who has distinguished himself the most in the exertions of the chase; and it is their practice to bury the hatchet and the bow of a leader in the same grave with his body, that he may not be destitute of arms when he enters upon the future world. They likewise deposit in his tomb the skins and stuffs of which their garments are made, corn, venison, drugs, utensils, and animals of different kinds, and whatever else they hold to be necessary or convenient in their simple estimate of life.”

“The Omaha Chief, Black-bird, after death, was placed erect on his war-horse, and, followed by the braves he had often led to battle, conveyed to his sepulchre on a high bluff overlooking the Missouri. The horse, alive, was forced into the grave with his dead rider, and thus inhumed.” Appendix to the Gazetteer of Missouri.

Some tribes erect a scaffold, by planting four large stakes in the ground, eight feet high, and five by three apart, across the tops of which are laid poles, on which the bark coffin, enclosing the body, rests. A correspondent of the New Yorker thus alludes to a scaffold of this description. “A few years since, a sarcophagus was erected on the west bank of Rock River, about two miles below the junction of the Pecatonic, wherein was laid an Indian girl. It remained till about a year since, when decay and the winds swept it away, and left nothing but the stakes on which it was reared, which are yet standing.”

The Indian warrior cuts scalp-notches upon the handle of his hatchet, significant of the number of the enemies that he has slain. “In order to commemorate great events and preserve the chronology of them, the war-chief in each tribe keeps a war-post. This post is a peeled stick of timber, ten or twelve feet high, that is erected in the town. For a campaign, they make, or rather the chief makes, a perpendicular red mark, about three inches long and half an inch wide; on the opposite side of this, for a scalp, they make a red cross, thus †; on another side, for a prisoner taken alive, they make a red cross, in this manner,

The Indian name for the whippowil, says Carver, is “muckawiss.” “As soon as night comes on, these birds will place themselves on the fences, stumps or stones that lie near some house, and repeat their melancholy notes without any variation, till midnight. The Indians and some of the inhabitants of the back settlements think if this bird perches upon any house, that it betokens some mishap to the inhabitants of it.”

“They march in a line of individual warriors, and preserve a dead silence.” Some of the Indian nations resemble the Tartars in the construction of their canoes, implements of war and the chase, with the well-known habit of marching in Indian file.”

“The first principle which is instilled into the breast of a savage, is revenge. Time cannot efface the remembrance of an injury; it is cherished and kept alive with the most studious care; like the hereditary feuds of Scottish clans, it even goes down from one generation to another, with all its associated feelings, and with these feelings in all their exercise. The blood of the offender can alone expiate the transgression. If the domain appropriated to hunting be invaded, or if an individual of a tribe be cut off, the desire of vengeance swells in every breast with instinctive emotion, and instantly kindles into rage. It sparkles in every eye, and gives activity to every limb. Months and years roll away, and the purpose of vengeance continues deep in the heart, and it shows itself in tremendous execution when it is least expected or feared. The Indian fights, not less to satiate his revenge, than to conquer his enemies; and that destructive passion is not gratified till he has glutted himself with the blood of the hostile tribe, and rejoiced in the extinction of its name. Even the women seem to be animated with this destructive and restless principle.”

When opportunity offers, on a retreat, the Indian warrior walks in the bed of streams, for he well knows that a savage enemy upon his trail will pursue the traces of man and beast, by observing with acuteness the disposition of the grass and leaves. “Some of the French missionaries have supposed that the Indians are guided by instinct, and have pretended that Indian children can find their way through a forest as easily as a person of mature years; but this is a most absurd notion. It is unquestionably by a close attention to the growth of the trees and position of the sun that they find their way. On the northern side of a tree there is generally the most moss; and the bark on that side, in general, differs from that on the opposite one. The branches toward the south are, for the most part, more luxuriant than those on the other sides of trees; and several other distinctions subsist between the northern and southern sides, conspicuous to Indians, being taught from their infancy to attend to them, which a common observer would, perhaps, never notice. Being accustomed from their infancy likewise to pay great attention to the position of the sun, they learn to make the most accurate allowance for its apparent motion from one part of the heavens to another; and in every hour of the day, they will point to the part of the heavens where it is, although the sky be obscured by clouds or mists.”

The hill referred to in the text, is situated on the banks of the Conesus Creek, and is called “Fort Hill” by the inhabitants. The first settlers of the country say that it was an open place in the heart of the forest, with trench, mound and gateway plainly visible. The sloping sides of the hill are filled with human bones that lie white and undecayed in loose yellow sand. Implements of quaint form, and ornaments in the shape of squares and half moons, marked with hieroglyphics, also an urn-like vessel, were found, after a severe tempest, in a deep hollow, made by the uprooting of an oak. Skulls have been disinterred near by, of sufficient size to encase the head of a full-grown man, and must have belonged to a race of larger proportions even, than the gigantic Indians of Patagonia. In company with his friend Mr. Harry Thomson, who takes a deep interest in the subject of Indian antiquities, the author visited this site of an ancient fortification, after the plough had passed over it, and succeeded in finding many curious beads, some formed from the horns of deer, fragments of pottery and pipes, on the bowls of which the heads of fox, frog and wolf, were ingeniously carved.

There is a favorite place of resort for pic-nic parties, called Long Point, that stretches out into the silvery Conesus, a few miles from Lakeville.

It is covered with oaks of stately growth, and in their shade rustic benches and tables have been erected for the accommodation of visitors. All lovers of the romantic owe a debt of gratitude to the tasteful proprietor,the venerable James Wadsworth, Esq., for preserving this natural park from the desecrating axe.

Aboriginal remains, well worthy of minute examination, may be seen near the lake beach. The face of the ground has evidently been altered by the hand of art; and timber, in a remarkable state of preservation, has been discovered, four or five feet below the surface,in places where the loose soil of the bank has crumbled away. The blue hills in the distance, partly clothed with the primitive forest—the waters kissing the shore with an undertone of melody—the plunge of fish and flap of waterfowl—the pleasant murmur of the wind-swept trees mingling with the carol of sinless birds, are ministers of repose and pleasure to a mind that has been wounded by the “briers of this work-day world.” It is a bright, sequestered spot, and the fabling fancy of Greece peopled haunts less picturesque, with Happy Spirits—a green retreat where the retired poet could wear out life, and which the wayfarer passes by with reluctance, through fear his eye will never rest again on sight so beautiful.

The Indian never forgets the individual who befriends him. Gratitude is as deeply rooted in his breast, as the remembrance of a wrong. In the language of Judge Story, “if he had the vices of savage life, he had the virtues also. He was true to his country, his friends, and his home. If he forgave not injury, neither did he forget kindness If his vengeance was terrible, his fidelity and generosity were unconquerable also. His love, like his hate, stopped not on this side of the grave.”

The loon, or great northern diver—“L'imbrim ou grand plongeon de la mer de nord de Buffon,” is regarded, in some parts of the country, as a bird of ill-omen. The loon is said to be restless before a storm; and an experienced master of a coasting vessel informs me, that he always knew when a tempest was approaching, by the cry of this bird, which is very shrill, and may be heard the distance of a mile or more.

Lest the reader might think probability violated by making Wun-nut-hay the stern author of a bloody deed, the following extract from an article on the North American Indians, to be found in vol. I., of the Edinburg Encyclopedia, is introduced:—

“The Algonquins being at war with the Iroquois, a woman of the former nation happened to be made prisoner, and was carried to one of the villages belonging to the latter. Here she was stripped naked; and her hands and feet were bound with ropes in one of their cabins. In this condition she remained for ten days, the savages sleeping around her every night. On the eleventh night, when they were asleep, she found means to disengage one of her hands; and freeing herself from the ropes, she went immediately to the door of the hut where she was lodged. Though she had now an opportunity of escaping unperceived, her revengeful temper could not let slip so favorable an opportunity of killing one of her enemies. The attempt was manifestly at the hazard of her own life; yet, seizing a hatchet, she plunged it into the head of a savage who lay next her, and fled.”

The Indians religiously believe, that their old burial places and battle-fields are visited nightly by the stalking ghosts of the dead; also that the footsteps of the murderer are dogged by the restless shadow of the slain. “Friends,” said the tall chief to his blood-stained tribesmen, “you have killed an Indian in a time of peace, and made the wind hear his groans, and the earth drink his blood. You are bad Indians! Yes, you are very bad Indians; and what can you do? If you go into the woods to live alone, the ghost of John Jemison will follow you, crying, Blood! blood! and will give you no peace! If you go to the land of your nation, there the ghost will attend you, and say to your relatives, See my murderers! If you plant, it will blast your corn; if you hunt, it will scare your game; and when you are asleep, its groans and the sight of an avenging tomahawk will awake you!” On the banks of the bright trout stream that flows through the farm of John McKay, Esq., at Caledonia, was a “place of torture,” called “Can-ce-a-di,” in the Seneca dialect. The Indians have a tradition that groans proceed from this memorable spot at midnight, and that ghastly shapes peering through the leaves, have often frightened the belated hunter.

I was informed by Captain Jones, that the wild glen at Fall Brook, near Geneseo, has been the scene of a tragic story, and that the place is haunted, after night-fall, by a frightful headless spectre. The Indians believe that it is a spot accursed; but the tourist looks with delight upon a scene where beauty contends for mastery with the sublime.