University of Virginia Library

CHARLES HESS.

The Indians are not the only persons who
excite interest in the northwest. Among the
many rude adventurers drawn into that country by
love of excitement and impatience of restraint,
there are some possessed of qualities that in other
situations would command respect, and perhaps
admiration. But these qualities are lost to the
world. It has often been observed, that men
most exposed to hardships, danger, and privation,
by the nature of their employments, as for example
soldiers and sailors, are more attached to
their occupations than those of more tranquil
habits. No where is this more forcibly exemplified
than by the persons actively engaged in the
Indian trade. Once fairly drawn in, they are

seldom known to leave it. A very short residence
among the aborigines learns them to despise
the refinement and artificial wants of civilized
society, and spurn the restraints legally and conventionally
established to bind men to each other.
The wild, independent habits of the wilderness
are at first pleasing from novelty, and soon become
riveted by custom. An Indian wife, and a family
of half breed children complete the change; and
when they have thus encumbered themselves,
they may be considered as chained to their occupation
for life.

Charles Hess, the subject of this sketch, was
an example of the truth of the foregoing remarks.
With a strength of mind and body seldom equalled,
and an energy and quickness of apprehension,
that with the advantages of education would have
insured him a high rank in any profession he
might have chosen, the circumstances above detailed
rendered him poor and miserable all his
life.

Where he belonged cannot be ascertained. He
had a faint recollection of having witnessed the
burning of his paternal roof, and the slaughter of
his family by a party of Indians, and as he retained
his language and remembered his name, he
believed himself an American. Having lived
several years a savage, among savages, and after
being many times transferred from one tribe to
another, he found himself at last on the Red river
of the north, and entered the service of the North
American Fur Company, where his talents and
activity soon obtained him a clerkship.[33] According

to the custom of the country, he married
a Chippeway squaw, by whom he had several
children.

Hess was modest, and never boasted of his personal
exploits. Yet sometimes when strongly urged,
he would relate passages of his life of wild adventure;
but on such occasions his own part of
the story was always underrated. The author has
heard him tell of what he had done and seen;
and his account of himself fell far short of common
report.

A grisly bear is an animal far more formidable
than the common black bear of America: it is
about the size of its polar namesake; much
swifter, and more active; though its great weight
hinders it from climbing trees. Of all beasts of
prey it is perhaps the only one that neither fears
fire nor the face of man. Such is its ferocity
that when hungry it will follow the human track
as a hound does that of a deer. When full grown
its claws are six inches long. Those Indians who
have killed one of these animals make a necklace
of them and value it highly: the Dahcotahs
think it as great a feat to destroy a grisly bear as
to slay an enemy in battle, and never dare to
hunt one but in large parties, nor without a previous
religious ceremony.

`Once,' said Hess, as we were sitting before a
blazing fire, `I commanded a brigade of canoes
that I was charged to conduct to the place of their
destination on the Saskatchawayn.[34] At sunset
we put ashore and encamped, for the boatmen
were sorely fatigued with their day's work. It

was a raw evening in October, and we built enormous
fires. The men soon despatched their
allowance of lyed corn and grease, for they were
on short allowance, and there is no sauce like
hunger.[35] They turned the canoes bottom upward
to sleep under and laid down in safety, as
they thought. I had spread my mat in my tent
and was just beginning to doze, when I was roused
by a yell as if all the fiends had broken loose. I
seized my gun and ran out of the tent, when I
was immediately aware of the cause of the tumult.
Fifty tongues informed me that a grisly bear had
paid our camp a visit. He had taken a man
named Longtain out of his blanket, as he slept
before a roaring fire, and was carrying him off
with all possible expedition. The men had guns,
but were afraid to fire, lest they should kill their
comrade. Yet the poor fellow did not lose his
presence of mind even in that moment of deadly
peril. `Fire, fire,' he cried; `it is better to be
shot than torn topieces.' We could still see the
willows bending under the bear by the starlight.
I had raised my gun, but Louison Désmarets, a
Kinisteneau half breed, was quicker. He fired,
and a horrible growl told us that his bullet had
taken effect. Directly after, Longtain joined us,
sadly frightened, but not at all hurt. The thick
blanket coat he wore had protected him from the
bear's teeth, and the ball had gone through the
animal's brain. It was a wonderful preservation,
and all things considered, a lucky occurrence.
Nobody was hurt; Longtain had a story to tell
for the rest of his life, and Désmarets had the satisfaction
to save his comrade. We fed on the
intended feeder, and for the two next days our
scanty pittance of corn and grease was exchanged
for an abundance of good fat bear's meat.'

`Another time,' he continued, `I was at my
fort[36] on the river Qui Appelle, and an hundred
Kinisteneaux lodges were pitched about me. One
morning an Indian announced that he had seen a
grisly bear in the adjacent prairie. I had disposed
of all my trading guns, and the lock of my
own was broken; yet I was not long in saddling
and bridling my good horse, nor in equipping myself
with a tough bow and a quiver of arrows. I
found a party of forty Kinisteneaux assembled on
the bear's tracks. They had peeled some willow
sticks and laid them across the foot prints, and
were smoking and praying lustily. I told them I
would not be detained by such folly, but would
ride on before the bear had time to escape. One
old man said, “I have often been told that the
men with hats are fools, and now I see it is
true!” I did not wait to hear any more but
gallopped away.'

`There was a light snow on the ground, and
the tracks were plainly to be seen. An hour of
brisk riding brought me up to Bruin. My horse
was afraid of him, trembled, snorted and made
every effort to throw me; but I was not to be
dismounted so easily. By a strong application of
the bit I forced him to stand till the bear was
within twenty steps of me, roaring terribly. I let
fly an arrow at him, but it recoiled from his side
as it would have recoiled from a stone wall. The

reason of this was, as I afterwards discoverd,
that the point was not firmly fixed to the wood,
and it turned when it struck him. I was now
obliged to make all speed, for the beast was too
close for safety, and if my horse had not been
staunch I should hardly have escaped. However,
Bruin soon tired of following, and I became
the pursuer in my turn. After three hours hard
riding I had stuck three arrows into him, and he
laid down to die. While I sat on my horse,
waiting for the death struggle, that I might approach
him in safety, the Indians came up. The
same old man who had before spoken to me
cried, “Ah! I now see that the people with hats
are not such fools as I thought!” We took off
the bear's skin, which was all that was worth taking,
for he was old and tough and rank, in short
not fit to eat.'

In the winter of eighteen hundred and —,
Hess was stationed at the Lake of the Woods.
An Indian called Opawgun Mokkeetay, or the
Black Pipe, took offence at him for having refused
to give him as much liquor as he desired.
Shortly after Hess had occasion to go on a journey,
and employed the Black Pipe as a guide.
They travelled together half a day without any
suspicion on the part of Hess. As they came to
a ravine, the Indian proposed to stop and smoke
before crossing it, and the white man cheerfully
complied. `Brother,' said Opawgun Mokkeetay,
`you have always been very kind to me. The
other day you refused to let me make a fool of

myself. You were right. I have a fast hold on
your heart.'[37]

`I am glad,' replied Hess, `that you are wise
at last; but we have far to go; let us push on.'

`Directly,' rejoined the other, examining the
lock and priming of his gun. `Go on brother. I
will but tie my moccasin, and then follow.'

Hess took up his own piece and crossed the
gap; just as he attained the level ground on the
other side, he heard the report of the Indian's
weapon, and felt his side grazed by a bullet. He
turned and saw that Opawgun Mokkeetay had
taken to his heels as soon as he fired. A ball
from the white man's gun overtook him, and he
fell. The weapon levelled for the destruction of
Hess had been charged with two bullets, and this
contrivance to make sure of him saved his life.
The balls had diverged; one grazed his right
side, and the other cut his belt in twain on his
left. He returned in a few days to his house.

Two or three evenings after his return, a cousin
of the deceased, by name Squibee, or the Drunkard,
entered his apartment with his gun in his
hand and his face painted black.[38] He seated
himself before the fire without saying a word.
Hess saw that he was bent on mischief, and
thought it best to temporise. He offered the
Drunkard a pipe, which was refused. He then
set before him a wooden platter of boiled
venison, but he would not taste it. He spoke
several times to the savage, but received no answer.
Squibee sat sullen and immoveable, his
eyes steadfastly fixed on the blazing logs before

him. At intervals his eyes turned in their sockets,
though his head did not move, and he cast
furtive and scowling glances around. The engagés
belonging to the establishment, who were
much attached to their principal, looked in, but
when they saw the expression of the Indian's features,
they shrunk back, and loaded their guns.

After a silence of half an hour Hess determined
to bring matters to an issue. `Nitchee,' (i. e.
friend) said he `what makes your heart sorrowful,
and what do you seek in my house?'

`My brother Opawgun Mokkeetay is dead,' replied
the savage. `My eyes are dry, and I want
something to make the tears come in them.'

Hess went into his store house and drew a glass
of spirits, which he gave to the Indian. The latter
held it up between his eyes and the light, and
then threw it into the fire. It blazed above the
chimney.

`Why did you not drink it?' said Hess.

`It is not good, it is no better than water,' replied
the other.

`It burned as if it was good,' said Hess, still
desirous to conciliate him. `I thought it was
strong enough. I will get you some more.' And
he went out to do so.

Squibee was evidently working himself to the
pitch of resolution requisite for some desperate
action. He began to examine his gun, and to
look uneasily about him. At one moment he
seemed to relent. He wiped the smut from one
side of his face with the corner of his blanket;
but one of the Canadians happening to look in,

he turned away his head. The instant the man
withdrew, he scraped some soot from the chimney
back with his fingers, spat upon it, and renewed
the color of his visage with the mixture. He had
scarcely finished when Hess reappeared. `Here,'
said the trader, `is liquor that is strong as fire.
Drink.'

The Indian doggedly put the glass to his lips,
took a mouthful, and spat it out again. He threw
the remainder into the fire, saying, `neither is
that good. Bring more.'

Hess turned to obey, and as he stooped to pass
through the door, heard the explosion of Squibee's
gun, and saw the splinters fly from the timber
over his head. Without testifying any concern
he went out, and was asked by Ménard, one of
his people, `what is the matter? are you hurt,
mon bourgeois?'

`I believe not,' he replied, `but I have had
a narrow escape. I felt the scoundrel's bullet
stir my cap.' He took it off, and saw that he
had indeed been near death: the ball had gone
through it within an inch of his skull.

Without uttering another word he entered his
store, drew a third glass of alcohol, and returned
with it to the room where he had left the
Indian sitting. He offered him the liquor, saying,
`You have been at the fort at the forks of the
Assineboin river, and have seen the scales that
are there used to weigh furs go up and down.
Just so it is with your life. Shall I live? Shall
I die? Dog!' he continued, his choler rising as
he saw that the Indian's countenance did not relax

its ferocious expression, `your life is light in
the balance. Look at that sun. It is the last
time you shall ever look upon it. Drink that
liquor. It is the last you shall ever drink.'

Squibee, as ready to suffer as he had been to
inflict suffering, took the glass, coolly emptied its
contents, and drew his blanket over his head.[39]
Hess levelled a pistol and blew out his brains.

Ménard and the other engagés rushed into the
room at the report, with their guns, and discharged
them into the bleeding body of the Chippeway.
`If any harm is to come to you, mon bourgeois,'
cried Ménard, `we are resolved to share it. If
the Indians revenge themselves on you, they shall
kill us also.'

Some days after the Drunkard's brothers sent
to invite Hess to a feast in their lodge.

This wigwam, like all Chippeway lodges, was
made of mats of rushes, spread upon a frame of
slight poles of an oval form; the fire was in the
centre, and the smoke escaped through a hole in
the top. Hess found the three brothers of the
man he had slain, sitting, with their legs crossed
under them; each had a wooden bowl full of
dogs' flesh before him. A bear skin to sit upon,
and a similar repast, were placed for Hess. The
Indians had painted their faces black, and their
arms were laid beside them. `Sit,' said the elder
of the brothers, and Hess sat down. The speaker
then produced a red, stone pipe, with a stem three
feet long, curiously ornamented with eagle feathers,
porcupine quills, and human hair dyed red,
which had been taken from the scalp of a Dahcotah.

He filled it with a mixture of tobacco,
and the dried and pulverized inner bark of the
red willow; which compound is called kinnikkinik
in the Chippeway tongue. He lighted the
pipe, took a few whiffs, and passed it to the next,
who imitated his example. When the brethren
had smoked, it was handed to Hess, the elder
saying, `our brothers whom you have killed were
foolish young men, and deserved their fate. We
know they sought it, and that you are blameless in
what has happened. If they had followed our
advice they would now be alive: but they were
fools, and a fool soon comes to his end. We
offer you this pipe, and ask you to eat of the dish
before you in token of amity, and assurance that
no harm shall befall you for what you have been
compelled to do.'

`Brothers,' replied Hess, `I am a man: if
you had intended me harm I should not have fallen
alone.' And he showed the butts of two brace of
pistols that he had brought under his garment.
`But,' he continued, `I am not to blame for what
has come to pass. If you wish me to believe
your words, or to smoke your pipe, or to partake
of your feast, you must first wash the black color
of your faces away; and then I will comply with
your invitation. I am not a woman, nor a child,
to believe every bird that sings.'

The Indians rose, left the lodge, and soon
returned with their faces washed. One of them
said, “If our faces were black, our hearts were
clean. It was not in sign of malice towards you,

but of grief for our relations that we were painted.
Eat then, and smoke, without doubt or fear.'

Hess smoked and ate. When he had finished,
the elder Indian said, `we hope, brother, that you
will give the widows and children of the dead
something to cover their nakedness, and to relieve
their hunger.' And Hess complied with the request,
for he was a humane man when left quiet.

Whether, if they had not washed their faces,
the family would have avenged their slain relatives
or not, cannot now be ascertained; but it is
certain he was never after molested for what he
had done.

When the Hudson's Bay and North West
Companies united, Hess, like many others, was
thrown out of employment. He remained at
Pembinaw (Lord Selkirk's settlement) and maintained
his family by planting, trapping, and hunting
the buffalo, till the autumn of 1822, when he
received a proposal from the principal partners of
the Columbian Fur Company, then just formed,
to engage in their service. He accepted the offer,
bought two carts and horses, and started with
his family and little effects, to go across the plains
to Lae au Travers, the principal post of his future
employers. He was mounted on a good horse,
and expected to subsist on the buffaloes he might
find in his route. To the inhabitants of the Atlantic
coast it may appear strange, that a family
of eight, women and children, should undertake a
journey of nearly three hundred miles under the
protection of one elderly man only, with the sky
for a covering, and relying on his success in the

chase for support. But we can assure them that
nothing is more common in the north-west than
such excursions; and the hardships they must
have reckoned on enduring are there accounted
as trifles.

They had accomplished about half the distance
they had to go, without seeing any of the roving
bands of Sioux that infest the prairies on
the Red River, and expected to complete the
journey in the like security. One day at noon
they halted at the river Aux Outardes to refresh
themselves, and give their horses time to graze.
While they were eating, a drove of buffaloes came
in sight, and Hess mounted his steed to pursue
them. From a cause then unknown to him, the
animals took fright, and he followed them far and
long before he brought one down.

For two days the family had been observed by
an erratic band of Dahcotahs, whose name cannot
conveniently be expressed by the letters of the
English alphabet; but translated, it signifies
People of the Pole. They are the Ishmaelites of
the north-west. None ever escaped from their
hands without being plundered, unless too strong
for them to meddle with: few whom they have
ever plundered have survived to tell the tale.
They knew Hess by report, and one or two of
them had seen him; and from his character they
inferred that they could not attack him openly,
without the loss of one man at least. They had
therefore hitherto kept out of sight; but when
they saw him ride away after the buffaloes, they
sent a runner to frighten the animals, in order

that he might go too far to see or hear what was
to take place. In this they succeeded too well.
Does the reader ask their motive for aggression?
The wife of Hess was a Chippeway, and the
blood of that hated race ran in the veins of his
children. And had this not been the case, the
thirst of blood, the little property in the carts, the
supply of ammunition and tobacco they expected
to find, and the scanty clothing and pitiful ornaments
of the victims, would have been to them
sufficient inducements to butcher a thousand
human beings. When Hess returned at sunset
faint and weary, from his successful hunt, a sad
sight for a husband and a parent met his view.
The bodies of his wife and children were naked
and had been thrown into the fire; their heads
were divested of their natural covering, and the
trunks bristled with arrows. His carts were
broken in pieces, and the horses were led away.
`I have seen' said Hess, `many a sight of blood
and horror, but never before anything like this.
For a moment my brain turned, and the world
seemed to me to be annihilated. Had the enemy
then come back, they might have taken me like a
child. But other feelings soon arose in my
breast. My blood boiled; I felt it flowing in my
veins like molten lead; my voice became husky
and my palate parched; I was almost suffocated
with rage, which was not at all allayed by the
reflection that I could do nothing for vengeance.
I was alone; a poor, weak, friendless old man:
the murderers had at least four hours the start of
me; their trail I could see; but if I followed it
what could one, even if he were younger and
stronger than I, have done. But this would
not have weighed with me for an instant, if my
wearied horse could have carried me. Those
only who have suffered such a loss, in such a
manner, can have any idea of my feelings.

`When I came a little to myself, I found that
my children were not all present. There lay my
wife, her infant nailed to her bosom with an arrow.
There was my brave boy, his face upward, still
grasping the knife he had drawn to defend his
mother and sisters, his teeth set, looking defiance,
though cold and dead. Five of my children
were there in one bloody pile; but my eldest
daughter was gone. This did not console me,
for I knew that some brutal savage had saved her,
that she might become his wife.

`I dug their graves with the knife I wore in
my belt. I had no fear that the wolves would
disturb them, for the carcasses of the buffaloes
cumbered the prairie. The work occupied me
all night. I took one last embrace of her, who,
although her hue was dark, had been my faithful
partner through twenty years of joy and sorrow.
With a weak and a trembling hand I laid my
family in the earth, and I swore over them by
God the Father Almighty, the omnipotent maker
of heaven and earth, that if any of those who had
thus bereaved me should ever fall within my
power, I would not spare them; no, not the babe
unborn.'

But when this first storm of passion was over,
his better feelings prompted him to attempt the

recovery of his daughter, rather than obey the
dictates of revenge. Four days travel carried
him to Lac au Travers. On his arrival he was
kindly welcomed by Messrs M'Kenzie, Laidlaw,
and other partners of the Columbian Fur Company.
Another cup of bitterness was in store for
the unfortunate old man; the next day he was
taken ill, and was confined to his bed for several
days. While he lay upon his fevered couch, he
was informed that the Indian who had made his
daughter a prisoner had taken her to wife. The
gentlemen above mentioned offered him any
amount of merchandise that might be needed for
her ransom, and it was settled that he should go
and demand her at the Indian camp as soon as
his health would permit. A messenger was sent
to ask on what terms she might be redeemed, and
the answer was soon obtained.

As force could avail him nothing, Hess determined
to go alone, and unarmed, in quest of his
offspring. When he arrived at the camp another
dreadful spectacle was prepared for him. The
scalps of his family were hung upon a pole, and
the savages were dancing around them in triumph.
He was greeted, not with hostility, for the hospitality
of the Sioux nation forbade that, but with
evident exulation and insolence. Some sung
the wrong they had done him. He presented
himself before his daughter's husband, or master,
and uncovering his breast said, `I am worthy of
pity. This is my only child; restore her, or strike
me as you struck her mother. I am alone on
earth; lo! here is a ransom.'

The features of the son of the Pole showed
some feeling. `I am the only child of my father,'
he replied. `The ransom is little, but you are
old and need some one to make your clothes and
moccasins, and to take care of you. Tarry and
partake of our cheer before you depart. Then
take your child, Tahtunkah Nahzhee[74] , and begone,
and none shall molest you.'

If it were permitted to compare a poor Indian
trader with a mighty monarch, we should say
that this scene reminds us of Priam kneeling to
Achilles for the body of his son.

Fearful to irritate the Indian, by any sign of
impatience, the heart stricken old man entered
the lodge, and sat down with his daughter to a
dish of boiled buffalo meat. While at this repast,
a young savage who had assisted at the massacre
of his family entered, and holding out his bow and
arrows to Hess, said, `here, Tahtunkah Nahzhee,
I used this once to your sorrow. Do you understand
the use of it?'

His anger for the moment boiled over. He
sprang to his feet, seized the weapons, and drawing
the arrow to the head, replied, `stand off a
little and I shall show you.' For an instant the
life of the Indian was in great danger. But the
elder interfered. `You are a fool,' said he. `Go
away, and let Tahtunkah Nahzhee depart in peace.'

Hess found his way back to Lac au Travers in
safety, and the daughter thus redeemed was
afterwards married to an Indian trader. In the

year eighteen hundred and twenty —, he went
to Washington with Major Taliaferro, in the
capacity of interpreter to a deputation of Indians.
He had not dwelt in anything like a town before.
He was tall and thin to emaciation, but a life of
constant exercise had indurated his muscles almost
to the hardness of iron. He was strait and strong,
and for his age, active. His eye had lost none of
its quickness or brilliancy, and as he stole along
the streets with the noiseless Indian step he had
acquired, if a carriage rattled behind him, he
would start and feel for his knife, as he used to
do in the wilderness. He would cast sudden,
furtive glances around him, as if he expected an
attack, and was clearly out of his element. On
his return to the north-west he died of a complication
of disorders, and his bones lie on the bank of
the St Peters river. Peace to his manes.