I was
sitting on a
bench, when the old chief got up and put both his hands on my head and said
something, I did not know what. Then he gave me a name and called me
"Mohcossea," after the old chief that was killed, who was the father of the
Indian that I was given up to. Then I was considered one of that family,
a 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, that lived in the trading town.
When I
had finished writing, the Indian took it up and looked at it and said,
"Depaway, vely good." Coons' master, a brother to the one that claimed
me, told Coons to go catch his horse and take the letter for the bread,
not stay, but return as soon as possible. Coons hurried off immediately
and soon returned. As soon as he came back he brought the two
loaves of bread and gave them to me. I then asked Coons what I should
do with this bread, as he was somewhat better acquainted with the ways of
the Indians than I was. He says, "Kife one loaf to tay old squaw and her
two little chiltren, and tofide the otter loaf petween you and your
master, put keep a pigest half." I did so. This old squaw was the mother
of the two Indians that claimed Coons and myself. The old squaw and her
two children soon eat their loaf. I then divided my half between the two
little children again. That pleased the old squaw very much; she tried
to make me sensible of her thanks for my kindness to her two little
children.
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