University of Virginia Library

1. PART I.

Antoine Pinchon was one of the first traders
who pushed their fortunes among the Dahcotahs.
At that time the Indian trade was profitable.
Packs of beaver could then be obtained more easily
than single skins now. Buffaloes and deer
abounded, and muskrats and martins were as
plenty as mice. The times have changed: the
buffalo has receded hundreds of miles; a beaver
is a curiosity to a Dahcotah, and the best hunter
finds it difficult to collect a pack of rats in a season.
Yet it was not the thirst of gain that drew

Pinchon into the country; but the love of adventure
and excitement, acting upon his mind, as
nettles might have operated on his flesh.

He was born near Montreal, of parents of pure
Norman descent. In his childhood, no rod, no reproof,
could restrain him from the exercise of his
own free will. If he did not learn to read and
write, it was not wholly his fault, for his father
was a true Canadian, and held such Yankee notions
as schools in religious abhorrence. As the
youth grew in stature, he grew in iniquity also:
he was a rough rider of races on Sundays, between
mass and vespers; the first at the cabaret,
and the last out of it, and by the time he was
twenty he was the dreaded bully of the whole
seigneurie, and had qualified himself for the gallies,
or even the gallows. Totally ignorant;
scarcely knowing right from wrong; not a day
passed in which he did not make his father's heart
ache. An intrigue with a damsel, toward whom
he stood within the prohibited degrees of affinity,
finally determined his parents to get rid of him,
before worse came of it.

Among his comrades and boon companions,
the voyageurs returned from the frozen north and
northwest, stood highest in his esteem. The blue
capot, with the capuchon negligently thrown back,
the garnished moccasins, and the bright sash, the
usual costume of the coureurs des bois, were certain
passports to his good will. With these hardy
travellers he loved to talk, and still better to drink,
while their speech was of the wonders they had

and had not seen. He was never weary of hearing
them dilate upon

For such tales would he exchange his time
and coin; and he had long resolved to become
one of the class he so much admired.

He was therefore delighted, when his father,
after a long lecture, during which he yawned most
irreverently, proposed to him, as a last chance of
amendment, to engage with M. Louis Provencal,
who wanted men to winter with him on the river
St Peters. He acceded to the proposal without
hesitation, and accompanied his parent to the trader's
lodgings, and was straightway hired at five
hundred livres per annum.[79]

We do not hold up this worthy as an object of
admiration, nor do we ask that he should even be
pitied; but as the story of his fortunes may aid
our purpose to elucidate Indian manners and character,
we have thought fit to communicate them
to the world.

Had we the pen of Plutarch, or the greater Sir
Walter, we see no reason why the exploits of the
hero, or rather scoundrel of our story, should not
be as much admired as the feats of Romulus, or
Rob Roy, or indeed any ruffian and robber of ancient
or modern times.

To return to our argument: after receiving the
benediction of his father, and what he valued

more, a small purse of coined silver, stamped
with the effigies of the most puissant Louis, Pinchon
embarked with six of his compeers on board
M. Provencal's boat, and they left the quay singing
the air from which Mr Moore took the hint
of that elegant misnomer, `The Canadian Boat
Song.' Thus did the ditty run.

They soon reached `Utawa's tide,' and as long
as they were in the vicinity of the settlements, the
bourgeois allowed his men to stop at pleasure,
and fed them well with pork and beans, but once
in the wilderness, there was an end to this treatment.
They now only stopped at the end of the
pipe or league [65] and their food was hard Indian
corn and tallow, a quart of one and an ounce of
the other, per diem. Yet upon this fodder, they
retained their health and spirits. As nothing important
occurred in this stage of the journey, we
shall not pretend to give an account of it. It
may not be amiss, though, to state, that before the
boat reached the portage at Lake Nipissing,
Pinchon had fought and beaten every man in the
company, M. Provencal excepted.

They coasted the northern shore of lake Huron,
sometimes getting nearly out of sight of land,
and crossing from one island to another, setting

the sail when the wind was fair, and plying the
oars when it failed. On one occasion the courage
and presence of mind of our hero saved the
boat, and the lives of all on board. The boat was
going steadily before a fresh breeze, about four
leagues from shore, when it struck upon a sunken
reef of rocks. A hole, big enough to have sunk
a first rate, was beaten in its bottom, yet it rubbed
heavily over, and got clear. The water rushed
in fearfully, yet five of the boatmen, as well as
the bourgeois, instead of exerting themselves for
her relief, betook themselves to their patron saints
for succor. Joe Le Duc, the steersman, almost,
if not altogether as great a reprobate as Pinchon,
was not so absurd, yet he dared not let go the
helm, as the boat might have broached to in the
swell. He called to our hero to thrust his bedding
into the hole, and his voice was heard, and
promptly obeyed. Pinchon stuffed three blankets
into the leak which was about to let in fate,
and called to the rest to keep the boat free, with
bowls and platters. `Les sacrés coquins!' said
he to Le Duc, `as if God or the saints would
help fools and cowards!' The water was kept
under till they reached an island, under the lee of
which the boat was unladen, hauled ashore, and
repaired.

They crossed the head of Lake Michigan, and
traversing the opaque waters of Green Bay, arrived
at the rapids of Fox river. Here Pinchon demanded
of M. Provencal, that his wages should
be put on an equality with those of the old hands,
in consideration of his superior strength and usefulness.

He had carried burthens, he said, at the
several portages, of double the weight the rest
could endure, and he had walked in the rapids
and pushed the boat, where they had been unable
to stand. If the bourgeois did not think proper
to comply, he declared that he would desert, and
find his way back to Macinac as he might. Rather
than lose so valuable a hand, M. Provencal
yielded, though the demand was mutinous, and
without a precedent.

Arrived at the eastern end of Winnebago Lake,
the boat was prevented from crossing by a head
wind. It was now the latter part of September, and
they had ample time to admire this beautiful sheet
of water, as it lay embosomed between its lovely
shores, and covered with ducks, geese, and countless
flocks of snow white swans and pelicans.
Their attention was, however, withdrawn from these
things, by the arrival of three hundred savages in
their war paint; the inhabitants of the neighboring
Winnebago village. They swarmed about the boat,
and were clamorous for the accustomed tribute,
paid by traders on passing the lake, and seemed
much disposed to help themselves. M. Provencal
gave them something, but they were not satisfied
with his liberality. The plunder of the boat
seemed inevitable, and it was more than probable
that the extermination of the crew would follow.

At this moment, Pinchon coolly asked M. Provencal
if he wished him to save his boat, and as
he stood irresolute, resolved to do that service,
whether it was desired or not. Chippeway is the
court language of all the northwestern tribes east

of the Mississippi, and most of these unwelcome
visitors understood it. So did Le Duc, who had
wintered three times at Lake Superior. Our hero
desired him to ask the Winnebagoes what they
wanted, and the reply was, gunpowder. To
work he went, and having placed all the powder
kegs in the centre of the boat, in the midst of the
cases of bullets, he told Le Duc to desire them to
draw near. They came to him; some producing
their powder horns, others their calico shirts,
and in short, everything that might contain the
nitre. `Now, Le Duc,' said Pinchon, raising his
voice, `tell them to let their bravest man come
forward, and take what he wants. Tell them that
he who puts his hand on anything here, does it
at his peril. With these words he knocked in the
head of one of the kegs, cocked his gun, and buried
its muzzle in the powder.

His words were not understood by the Indians,
but his motions were. In an instant all was outcry
and confusion: never was such a rout seen.
Those who sat on the boat plunged overboard, as
did those alongside. They dived, and swam
away, faster than Indians ever swam before or
since. Those on shore fled on the wings of terror.
Let them not, however, be branded with
cowardice. Not many of these people would
have shrunk from death, if duly warned. But
the shock was too sudden for their nerves. Indeed,
it must be allowed that to scale the skies
mounted on a fiery dragon can be no very pleasing
prospect to any one. The Indians gained

their village with all possible expedition, and no
more was seen of them.

The wind fell with the sun, and the boat proceeded.
From that day a warm friendship between
Le Duc and Pinchon took its date. Similarity of
disposition and natural gifts cemented it. M.
Provencal rued the day he had enlisted the one
or the other; for they not only tyrannized over
the men, but gained the ascendency over him.
They leagued together for every kind of mischief,
treated him with contempt, and would only obey
his orders when they tallied with their own inclinations.

To return: the party proceeded onward, passed
the portage, descended the Wisconsin and
ascended the Mississippi to the Grand Encampment.
Here they found a great body of Dahcotahs
assembled. These had, though so early in
the season, so large a quantity of furs, that M.
Provencal thought it worth his while to stop and
collect them. This could not be done without
considerable delay, as the ownership of the skins
was to be decided by a race, upon the result of
which the greater part of them were staked, and
the competitors had not all arrived.

Here, then, they remained two days, gambling,
fishing, and shooting ducks and geese. The
third morning the drum beat, and the racers, all
active men, prepared for the trial. This was done
by stripping to the skin, and rubbing their limbs
with bears' oil. Never have so many manly and
symmetrical forms been seen in any other part of
the world. Yet here it excited no attention.

Beauty of figure is so common among the Dahcotahs,
that the absence of it would be the wonder.

About two miles distant, the post was set up.
The racers were to touch it, turn, and return to
the place from whence they started; where they
were to touch another post. The wagers on the
race were many. When all was nearly ready,
an old man approached with a pack of beaver on
his back, followed by his son, to where the whites
were standing; and asked if any of them were
disposed to try their speed. The challenger was
a Yankton, and his boy was the swiftest runner in
that sept. They had come all the way from Lac
au Travers to try if any of the Munday Wawkantons
(People of the Lake) might compete with
those of the prairies. Le Duc brought his gun,
and then untied the pack of furs. Taking out
ten of the best skins, he laid them by the side of
the fowling piece, and told the ancient that he
was willing to run with his son on that wager.
The Yankton smiled, and selecting ten more of
his beaver added them to his stake, telling the
Canadian that the bet should stand so. The
stakes were put into the hands of M. Provencal:
Le Duc stripped, and took his place beside his
challenger in the line of racers.

An elder gave the signal for starting, by dropping
a French flag from the end of a pole. Then
were heard screams of delight from the women,
as their sons, husbands, or lovers gained in the
contest. The old men shouted, excited to the
last degree, and the dogs howled; some of them

followed their masters, and getting between the
legs of the runners, entangled and threw them
down, but none appeared to mind it; they rose
again and strained every nerve to regain the lost
ground.

At the first start, several ran abreast, and it
was difficult to say which, of half a dozen, had the
advantage. After the first half mile, the young
Yankton was ahead, Le Duc breathing on his
shoulder. The Indian exerted himself to the utmost
for the honor of his band, conscious that the
eyes of all were upon him. He gained the post
first, seized it with his left hand, swung himself
lightly round, and traced his course backward.

But he had put forth his power too soon, and
before he had run over half the ground from the
distance post, it was observed that his speed
slackened. Le Duc now ran abreast with him,
trying to increase his confusion by asking him if
a Yankton could run no faster, and the like taunts.
When within three hundred yards of the goal,
the white man darted ahead and came bounding
to the end of the course like a race horse, leaving
the Indian fifteen paces behind him.

The others arrived in quick succession, and
the stakes were given up to the winners. The
Yankton took the whole pack from which the beaver
had been drawn, and laying it at the feet of Le
Duc, said, `I was never outrun before; and I did
not think there was a man alive could do it. Take
all my furs, for you have won them fairly.'

But to show that there were some things in

which he could outdo all the white men that ever
lived, he seized his bow and quiver. Sending the
first arrow into the air, he loosened ten more from
the string before the first touched the ground;
and he looked at Le Duc, as who should say,
`beat that if you can.'

Pinchon demanded what the Indian had said,
and being informed, cried, `tell him, Le Duc,
that there are two men living who can beat him.
If he accepts the challenge, give him back his beaver,
and I will put my gun against them, and run
with him tomorrow morning, as soon as he gets
rested.'

These words being interpreted, the young savage
looked inquiringly at his father, who in his
turn looked at Pinchon, and said, `he is too big
to run well.' The youth then accepted the defiance,
and proposed to start instantly, declaring
that he was not at all fatigued. Pinchon would
not believe it, and persisted in remaining tranquil
till the next day.

On the morrow, the same spectators who had
witnessed the first race assembled to behold the
second. Pinchon demanded four guns of M.
Provencal, and having obtained them, appeared
on the ground. The savages asked what he
meant to do, and when he declared that he intended
to run with the guns on his shoulders, a
general burst of laughter proclaimed their utter
scorn of his presumption. Le Duc too, entreated
him to lay aside all thoughts of such a contest,
but Pinchon desired him to mind his own affairs.

Without stripping, and with two guns on each

shoulder,[66] he started, and beat his rival with
even more ease than Le Duc had done. The
laughing was now on the other side. The mortified
Yankton looked around, expecting another
white man to come forward to dispute the
honors of the race with him. He stood sullen,
with his hand on the handle of his knife, prepared
to plunge it in the body of any that should offer.
No one thought of the thing, and he vented his
disappointment in words, which, luckily for him
and all concerned, Pinchon did not comprehend.

When M. Provencal had made the most of his
market, the boat moved up the river, and in due
time arrived at Rocher Blanc, on the St Peters,
where the voyageurs erected buildings for the
winter. In the course of the season Pinchon acquired
enough of the Sioux tongue for common
purposes, and learned all the tricks of the Indian
trade to perfection. Nothing worth recording
happened at the station; but towards the spring,
our hero and his friend, judging from the deportment
of M. Provencal, that he intended to withhold
their wages, and conscious that their behaviour
had deserved it, burst into his apartment one
day when all the rest were absent. Holding a
cocked pistol to his breast, Pinchon compelled him
to write and sign a certificate that they were the
two best men he ever had under him, as also a
document recommending Pinchon, as a person
deserving the trust and confidence of all persons
concerned in the Indian trade; and also competent
to manage an outfit. Possessed of these
papers, the friends stole a canoe and deserted;

leaving their wives; for they had not failed to take
unto themselves wives, to console themselves as
they might. They soon reached old Michilimacinac,
subsisting themselves on the way by their guns.
On the strength of M. Provencal's recommendation,
M. La Salle, the superintendent of the depot,
furnished Pinchon with an assortment of Indian
goods, a boat, and men to take it into the
Indian country. Le Duc was also engaged as
an interpreter, with a handsome salary.

Yet he could not depart from Michilimacinac
without playing a prank that had nearly deprived
him of the fruits of his villany. In spite of the
remonstrances of his interpreter, he resolved to
personate a priest who was expected from Montreal.
Having procured a cassock, he caused it
to be given out that the Reverend M. Badin had
arrived; as indeed, he was expected before night.
In his disguise our hero heard the confessions of
all the voyageurs who were not in the secret. He
possessed himself of their private histories, assigned
them penance and received fees. Yet
was he not content without playing a practical
joke on the priest himself.

There was in the settlement a mangeur de lard,
or pork eater, as the raw engagés are called, just
arrived from Quebec. This poor fellow, as ignorant
as his class in general, and being naturally
none of the brightest, applied to the confessional
of the supposed clergyman. The sham apostle
magnified some peccadilloes that he confessed into
mortal sins, and read him a sharp and severe
lecture. This edifying discourse he seasoned

with scraps of Latin, which he had picked up at
mass, and which sunk the deeper into the penitent's
mind that he did not comprehend a syllable
of them. Finally addressing the simpleton by
the title of `vile sinner,' he allotted him a penance.
It was to go into the fur magazine, and
sit on the top of the packs till midnight. While
there, Pinchon told him that the devil would appear,
in the disguise of a priest, and entice him to
come down. `But mind, my son,' said Pinchon,
`that you do not consent; for if you do, you will
be torn to pieces.' The fellow assured him that
no consideration should induce him to descend,
and having received his blessing, departed. In
the evening, the real Simon Pure, the true priest,
arrived. Having divested himself of his disguise,
Pinchon called on him, paid his respects, and informed
him that there was a man in the fur store,
who appeared to be troubled in mind on account
of his sins, and it was feared that he would lay
violent hands on himself. Very willing to do a
good action, M. Badin repaired to the spot. At
the sight of him the pork eater trembled from
head to foot, and his hair bristled upright. The
following dialogue ensued.

M. Badin. What is the matter, my good
friend? Do you not know me?

Voyageur. Ye—yes. I know y—you—we—
well enough. God be merciful un—unto me a
sinner! For my sins, I—I know you.

M. Bad. If you know me, come down, and
tell me what ails you.

Voy. No, no. I know better than that.

Good M. Badin told me what to do—blessings on
him!

M. Bad. Why, my good man, my name is
Badin; I am sure I never told you anything.

Voy. Ay, ay, just so. I was told how it
would be. Bah! how hot it is. How he smells
of brimstone.

M. Bad. Is the man mad? Do you smell
brimstone already? come down; put yourself into
my hands, and it may be, that I can save you
from it.

Voy. Put myself into your hands! No doubt
you would be glad to carry me off, but I don't
choose such company. Come down—thank you,
Monsieur Devil, as much as if I did. They call
me a fool; but I'm not so simple as that, neither.
Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis!

M. Bad. Come down you wretch; I lose all
patience with you. Do you call a servant of the
Holy Catholic Church a devil! Come down, I
say; come down.

Voy., crossing himself. St Thomas be good
to me! St Peter hear me! Pray, sir, if it is not
too much trouble, let me see your foot.

M. Bad., holding out his foot. There is my
foot, you foolish fellow; what do you want to see
it for?

Voy. The cloven hoof may be concealed in
that leather, as the tail is under the cassock, no
doubt. Please to take off your boot and stocking.

M. Bad., pulling off his boots. There, wretch,
are both my feet. Do you take me for the Devil

still, you irreverent knave? Will you come
down?

Voy. No, I will not, if you stay there till
morning. The long and the short of it is, Monsieur
Satan, I know you, and I will not be persuaded.
So you may as well be off, for here I
am resolved to stay. O, for a little holy water to
throw upon you.

M. Bad. Then I'll fetch you down.

Voy., seizing a fish spear. Avaunt! Mount
not here, at your peril. Stand off, I say. In the
name of our Saviour, stand off.

Finding his skull impenetrable, M. Badin left
him to the enjoyment of his imaginary triumph.
A short inquiry served to explain the matter.
The other voyageurs who had been tricked, had
discovered who the rogue that had tricked them
of their money was. Some laughed, but more
were highly indignant at the deception. M. La
Salle, a strict and pious Catholic, was greatly
scandalized at this treatment of all he held sacred,
and he told M. Badin he would deprive Pinchon
of the outfit he had furnished, being convinced
that heaven would never prosper the labors of
such a sacrilegious wretch. With this sentiment
the priest agreed, but it had been better, not expressed
so loudly. Joe Le Duc was passing under
the window, and hearing the name of his comrade,
stopped to listen, and learned the intention of the
superintendent, which he immediately communicated
to Pinchon. The wind being fair, that
gentleman assembled his men, embarked, and set
sail. Six days carried him to the foot of Winnebago

lake. The Indians here waited upon him
with every demonstration of respect, and if they
remembered the experiment he had made on
their courage the season before, it was to his advantage.

As to the Mangeur de Lard, on whom he had
inflicted so whimsical a penance, the fright threw
him into a fever and delirium, in which he raved
of Satan and Monsieur Badin. When he at last
recovered, he could never be persuaded that he
had not seen his infernal majesty; nor could he
ever after look upon M. Badin without shuddering.

In less than a month Pinchon arrived at Lake
Pepin and set up his winter quarters at Point
aux Sables. He gave out the greater part of his
goods, as is common in the Indian trade, to different
savages, on credit; for which he was to receive
payment in the spring, when their hunt
should be over. Le Duc kept his accounts.
They sent for their wives, but did not long keep
them, for they put them away and took others;
according to the custom of Indian traders, before
and since; caring little what might become of
the children that had been born unto them in
their absence. This was repeated several times
in the course of the winter, for Indians are very
willing to give their daughters to white men,
knowing that they will not be compelled to labor.
The time did not hang heavy on their hands, for
they spent it in gaming, fishing, hunting the deer,
and other amusements of a wintering ground.