A CHIEF COME TO LIFE

When the Miamis had assembled in and about the open lodge of the chief, La Salle had one of the New England Indians bring into the council the presents which he wished to give. Then he chose first from the pile a roll of tobacco, and presenting it to the Miamis said:—

“May this tobacco, as you smoke it in your pipes, clear the mists from your minds, that you may think without confusion.

“And this,” he said, laying down a piece of blue cloth, “is to cover the bodies of your relatives just killed by the Iroquois. May it turn your eyes from their dead forms to the peaceful blue sky where the sun shines so brightly.

“And here is a piece of red cloth to cover the earth so that you may see no longer the blood of your brethren. Its color is like that with which you paint your faces for a feast, and will mean to you that hereafter you will always live in pleasure and joy.

“Here are cloaks to cover the bodies of the loved ones you have lost. May they be a mark of our esteem and friendship. And take these fifty hatchets to help you raise a magnificent tomb in their memory. And those who have no beautiful ornaments to wear in the feast which you will give to those who are gone—let them wear these necklaces and bracelets, these rings and glass beads and little bells, and let them paint themselves with this paint.”

Then he drew forth thirty sword blades and, stooping over, he planted them in a circle in the dirt floor of the lodge, around and inclosing the presents he had given.

“And so,” he said, “will I make a palisade of iron about you so that the bodies of your dead friends may receive no harm.”

He straightened himself beside the circle of iron, and while the Miamis within the lodge and outside watched him he continued:—

“Your dead friends must be contented now. We have paid them our reverence. They will only ask further that we let them lie in peace; that we wipe away our tears and take care of the loved ones who step into their places. But I wish to do more than this.

“I know how sadly you have mourned for Ouabicolcata, your great chief who is dead. Think of him no longer as dead. His spirit and his soul have come to life once more in my body. I will raise his name among you. I am another Ouabicolcata, and I will take the same good care of his family as he did while he lived. No more am I Okimao as you used to call me. Henceforth my name is Ouabicolcata. Your chief lives again in the body of a Frenchman who is able to give you all the things which you need.”

Seldom do Indians in council interrupt a speaker, but as the white leader promised to take up the name and life of their dead chief the whole gathering broke into cries of rejoicing and praise. When a son was lost from an Indian family the sorrowing parents often adopted in his place a captive from another nation. So now it did not seem strange that in place of their lamented chief they should take to their hearts and homes this white chief, and call him by the old name Ouabicolcata, and love him as they loved the man who was dead.

La Salle’s men now brought three immense kettles. “In these,” said the white chief, “you will make a great feast for the dead come to life.” Then to his newly found relatives he presented shirts and cloaks, a box of knives and hatchets, and many other wonderful things saying: “See how I will give to my people the things they need.”

“And now, my brothers,” said La Salle, “we come to a matter of much consequence”—and he presented the Miamis with six guns. “There is a great master across the sea. He is famous everywhere. He loves peace. He is strong to help us, but he wants us to listen to his words. He is called the King of France, the greatest chief of all those who rule on the other shore. He is anxious that peace shall come upon all people and that no one shall wage war without asking permission of his servant Onontio, the governor at Quebec. Therefore, be at peace with your neighbors and most of all with the Illinois. You have had your quarrels with them. But have you not been enough avenged by their losses? They want peace with you, yet they are still strong enough to do you harm. Content yourselves with the glory of having them ask for peace. And their interest is yours. If they are destroyed, will not the Iroquois destroy you the more easily? So take these guns, but use them not for waging war, but for the hunt and for self-defense.”

Then at last La Salle chose from his bundles two wampum necklaces—the gifts most common among Indians. Turning to the thirty New England Indians who were with him, he said: “These are other Miamis who come to take with you the places of the warriors whom the Iroquois have killed. Their bodies are the bodies of Indians from New England, but they have the spirit and the heart of the Miamis. Receive them as your brothers.”

The council broke up in a tumult of joy and brotherly feeling. High honor had been paid to the dead and splendid gifts bestowed upon the living. On the next day the Miamis came before La Salle to dance and present gifts. They did homage to the good spirits of the sky and the sun and to the God of the French. Then one of their chiefs, Ouabibichagan, presented to their new brother ten beaver skins saying:—

“Never, my brother Ouabicolcata, have we seen so wonderful an event. Never before have we seen a dead man come to life. He must be a great spirit who can thus bring back life. He makes the sky more fair and the sun more bright. He has given you with life, clothes with which to cover us who are wont to be naked.

“We are ashamed that we have not equal gifts to give you. But you, Ouabicolcata, are a brother. You will excuse us. For it was to redeem your bones from the Iroquois that we made ourselves poor. We gave them three thousand beaver skins. This little gift of ten skins is but a sign—is only like the paper which you Frenchmen give to one another—it only means that we promise you all the beavers in the river when next spring shall come.”

Again he gave him ten beavers and told him of the joy the Miamis would feel as they went upon their hunts with their brother alive again, and the spirit that gave him back his breath guarding over their happiness. With a third gift of skins he spoke of the French king in these words:—

“We will listen to him; we will put aside our arms; we will break our arrows, and hide our war-clubs at the bottom of the earth. The Illinois are our brothers since they acknowledge our father, and the French king is our father since he has given life back to our brothers.” A fourth and a fifth gift of beaver skins he made and bound the Miamis to Ouabicolcata and their new brothers from New England. At last he handed the white chief for the sixth time ten beavers and said:—

“Do not count the skins, my brother, for we have none left. The Iroquois have all the rest. But accept our hearts in trust for what we will do when spring has come again.”

After the gifts the dancing began again and also the feasting from the new kettles. And all day long the three wives of Ouabibichagan, sisters to one another, and the wives of Michetonga, also sisters, danced in the sunshine of spring and in the joy of a people reconciled to their neighbors and happy in the pleasant childlike pretension of a lost brother come back to live with them once more.

As the Miamis danced a band of Illinois were following swift trails westward to the banks of the Mississippi. They had talked with the great white chief who had left Fort CrÈvecoeur so long ago in the good old days when Chassagoac was alive and when their villages smiled in the sun along the Illinois River. They were carrying back to the Peorias and the Kaskaskias and the Tamaroas and to all their brethren the message from La Salle, that he was still determined to make his trip to the mouth of the Great River, and that he had come to reunite the Miami and Illinois, to plant his men as a guard against the Iroquois, and to snatch back for them the beautiful valley of the Illinois.