History of the Ottawa and Chippewa Indians of Michigan | Page 9

at the
doorway, snarling and growling, and sometimes fearfully barking.
When daylight came, the old man would go out in order to discover
what it was or if he could track anything around his cabin, but he never
could discover a track of any kind. These remarkable, mischievous,

audible, fanciful, appalling apprehensions were of very frequent
occurrence before any other inhabitants or settlers came near to his
place; but now, they do not have such apprehensions since many
settlers came.
That massacre of Mishinimackinawgoes by Seneca Indians of New
York happened probably more than five or six hundred years ago. I
could say much more which would be contradictory of other writers of
the history of the Indians in this country. Even in the history of the
United States I think there are some mistakes concerning the accounts
of the Indians, particularly the accounts of our brave Tecumseh, as it is
claimed that he was killed by a soldier named Johnson, upon whom
they conferred the honor of having disposed of the dreaded Tecumseh.
Even pictured out as being coming up with his tomahawk to strike a
man who was on horseback, but being instantly shot dead with the
pistol. Now I have repeatedly heard our oldest Indians, both male and
female, who were present at the defeat of the British and Indians, all
tell a unanimous story, saying that they came to a clearing or opening
spot, and it was there where Tecumseh ordered his warriors to rally and
fight the Americans once more, and in this very spot one of the
American musket balls took effect in Tecumseh's leg so as to break the
bone of his leg, that he could not stand up. He was sitting on the ground
when he told his warriors to flee as well as they could, and furthermore
said, "One of my leg is shot off! But leave me one or two guns loaded;
I am going to have a last shot. Be quick and go!" That was the last
word spoken by Tecumseh. As they look back, they saw the soldiers
thick as swarm of bees around where Tecumseh was sitting on the
ground with his broken leg, and so they did not see him any more; and,
therefore, we always believe that the Indians or Americans know not
who made the fatal shot on Tecumseh's leg, or what the soldiers did
with him when they came up to him as he was sitting on the ground.

CHAPTER IV.
The Author's Reasons for Recording the History of His People, and
Their Language--History of His Nationality--A Sketch of His Father's

History --How the Indians Were Treated in Manitoba Country One
Hundred Years Ago--His Father's Banishment to Die on a Lonely
Island by the White Traders--Second Misfortune of the Ottawas on
Account of the Shawanee Prophet--The Earthquake.
The Indian tribes are continnually diminishing on the face of this
continent. Some have already passed entirely out of existence and are
forgotten, who once inhabited this part of the country; such as the
Mawsh-ko-desh, Urons, Ossaw-gees--who formerly occupied
Saw-gi-naw bay; and the Odaw gaw-mees, whose principal habitation
was about the vicinity of Detroit River. They are entirely vanished into
nothingness. Not a single page of their history can be found on record
in the history of this country, or hardly an allusion to their existence.
My own race, once a very numerous, powerful and warlike tribe of
Indians, who proudly trod upon this soil, is also near the end of
existence. In a few more generations they will be so intermingled with
the Caucasian race as to be hardly distinguished as descended from the
Indian nations, and their language will be lost. I myself was brought up
in a pure Indian style, and lived in a wigwam, and have partaken of
every kind of the wild jubilees of my people, and was once considered
one of the best "Pipe" dancers of the tribe. But when nearly grown up, I
was invited by a traveling Protestant Missionary, whose name was
Alvin Coe, to go home with him to the State of Ohio, with the
assurance that he would give me a good education like the white man,
and the idea struck me that I could be really educated and be able to
converse with the white people. And although at that time (in the fall of
1840) I missed the opportunity, the idea was never after off of my mind.
So some time afterwards I started out voluntarily to obtain an education;
and I had nearly succeeded in completing my professional studies when
I called away to come home and look after my aged father, in 1850.
And now I have four children, but not one of them can speak the Indian
language. And every one of