University of Virginia Library

ADVERTISEMENT.

I desire not to despise the admonition of those,
who, out of a tender regard to bienseance, have admonished
me, that other themes, than the following,
more befit my pen. A more impressive admonition,
the voice of years in their flight, has inculcated the
same warning. I do not pledge myself to have forsworn
peccadillos of a similar character; but I mean
never again to perpetrate offences of romance on a
large scale. I hope, the reader will be more ready
to accord indulgence in this case, as knowing, it will
be his last opportunity. Criticism, of whatever character,
cannot deprive me of one satisfaction,—the
testimony of my inward consciousness, that whatever
other demerit may attach to my writings in this walk,
they are at least free from the inculcation of a single
sentiment, that had not in my view the purest moral
tendency.

With Elswatta, I deprecate the walking of little
men over the graves of my romances; and I earnestly
desire, that no one will intermeddle in this work, in
the way of criticism, who has neither eyes to see, imagination
to admire, or heart to feel simple nature, as
I have communed with her in scenes, the memory of
which is attempted to be transferred to these pages.

To those, who love forests, meadows, rivers and mountains,
the gay April singers, who return to their forsaken
groves, to chirp the tune of the melting snows,
the yellow cup of the cowslip, the renovated croaking
of the water-dwellers, and the breathing odors of the
first vernal vegetation, to whomsoever any touch of
sensibility of this sort appertains, to him, to her I dedicate
this book; and I will meekly abide their award,
be it for good, or evil. I am sufficiently aware, that
enough will be found to say backward prayers. I
would comfort them by the information, that I have
already gathered a reward, which is stored out of
their reach, the pleasure of contemplating these pictures,
as they rose in my mind, beguiling me of many
an hour of pain; and soothing many an anxiety and
care, excited by far other associations.

In relation to the materials of this tale, I would
only remark, that many years past, I had the pleasure
to be present, where M. Mackay, the venerable
commandant, under the Spanish regime in Louisiana,
of the district of Carondelet, or `Vide Poche,' below
St. Louis, made one of a company of several travellers,
who had each crossed the Rocky Mountains to
the Western sea. He had himself been an extensive
traveller in the interior of our continent, and was one
of the most intelligent, with whom I have ever met.
Their conversation chiefly fell upon the adventures,
which had befallen them in their trips over the rugged
and nameless mountains, between that place and the
Pacific. These narratives of surpassing interest of
the spectacles rencontres and accidents, by flood and

field, which naturally befel them in a journey of such
immense length, and in such wild regions, planted in
my memory the germ and the stamina of the following
tale. Elder Wood and Baptiste, Ellswatta, Areskoui,
Manitouna, the self immolation, and even Jessy,
mutato nomine, are no fictions. I have only to apprehend,
that their intrinsic interest will have been diminished,
in passing through my version. To those,
who find me in any instances minute and prolix, I offer
the admirable apology of the minister, who replied
to the charge of delivering too long sermons, that he
had not time to make them shorter. I felt myself
almost constrained by necessity to sketch similar landscapes,
which presented on the different wanderings
of the Shoshonee, which there will not be wanting
wise ones to stamp with the opprobrium of repetition.
In classical humility I remind them, that Homer is
famous for repeating a good thing, verbatim et literatim,
seven times. If I am not always alike, they
will remember, that Horace says