Kickapoo in place of their father, the old chief. Then the
principal chief took the peace pipe and smoked two or three draws. It
had a long stem about three feet in length. He then passed it round to
the other Indians before they raised from their council. He held the
pipe by the end and each of them took two or three draws. Then he handed
it to me and I smoked. The chief then said I was a Kickapoo and that
they were good Indians and that I need not be afraid; they would not
hurt me, but I must not run away.

By this time their dinner was prepared and they were ready to eat. They
all sat down and told me to sit by. I did, and we all eat a hearty
dinner and they all appeared to be well pleased with their new adopted
Kickapoo brother.

These Indians lived about six miles west of the old Kickapoo trading
town, on the west side of the Wabash river. They had no traders in their
town. After dinner was over, they told the interpreter Coons that I must
write to their trading town for some bread. I told Coons to tell them I
had nothing to write with--no paper, nor pen and ink. They said I must
write. I told Coons to tell them again I had no paper nor nothing to
write with. Coons told them. Then the Indian that claimed me went to his
trunk and brought me a letter that had one-half sheet of it clean paper.
I told Coons to tell them I wanted a pen. The same Indian went and
pulled a quill out of a turkey wing and gave it to me. I told Coons I
wanted a knife to make the pen. The same Indian got his scalping knife;
he gave it two or three little whets and gave it to me. I then told
Coons I wanted some ink. Coons says, "Ink--ink; what is tat? I ton't
know what ink is." He had no name for ink in Indian or English. I told
him to tell the Indian to get me some gunpowder and water and a spoon
and I would make the ink myself. The Indian did so. I knew very well
what their drift was; they wanted a proof to know whether I told them
any lies when they examined me in their council. When I had made the ink
and was ready to write I asked Coons how many loaves of bread I should
write for. He says, "Ho! a couple of lofes; tay only want to know if you
can write or if you told them any lies or not." I wrote to the English
trader, that I mentioned before that I had made some acquaintance with
the day I passed the old trading town, for to get me two loaves of
bread. He very well knew my situation and circumstances. There was a
Frenchman, a baker, tha