oing to the old hunting grounds, when
game was plenty, would go near the settlements to hunt, and, instead of
saving their skins, to pay the trader for goods furnished them in the
fall, would sell them to the settlement for whisky, and return in
the spring with their families almost naked, and without the means of
getting anything for them.
About this time my eldest son was taken sick and died. He had always
been a dutiful child and had just grown to manhood. Soon after, my
youngest daughter, an interesting and affectionate child, died also.
This was a hard stroke, because I loved my children. In my distress
I left the noise of the village and built my lodge on a mound in the
corn-field, and enclosed it with a fence, around which I planted corn
and beans. Here I was with my family alone. I gave everything I had
away, and reduced myself to poverty. The only covering I retained was
a piece of buffalo robe. I blacked my face and resolved on fasting for
twenty-four moons, for the loss of my two children--drinking only of
water during the day, and eating sparingly of boiled corn at sunset. I
fulfilled my promise, hoping that the Great Spirit would take pity on
me.
My nation had now some difficulty with the Iowas. Our young men had
repeatedly killed some of them, and the breaches had always been made
up by giving presents to the relations of those killed. But the last
council we had with them, we promised that in case any more of their
people were killed ours, instead of presents, we would give up the
person or persons, who had done the injury. We made this determination
known to our people, but notwithstanding this, one of our young men
killed an Iowa the following winter.
A party of our people were about starting for the Iowa village to give
the young man up, and I agreed to accompany them. When we were ready
to start, I called at the lodge for the young man to go with us. He was
sick, but willing to go, but his brother, however, prevented him and
insisted on going to die in his place, as he was unable to travel. We
started, and on the seventh day arrived in sight of the Iowa village,
and within a short distance of it we halted ad dismounted. We all bid
farewell to our young brave, who entered the village singing his death
song, and sat down on the square in the middle of the village. One of
the Iowa chiefs came out to us. We told him that we had fulfilled our
promise, that we had brought the brother of the young man
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