Volume 1

GOOD RESOLUTIONS—OUTPOSTS—DEAD SIOUX. 26/
in vain to plague me for liquor. They had done their
utmost; some had flattered and even caressed* me, some
had threatened mischief, and others said they would not
hunt; but all to no purpose, as I was determined they
should not taste a drop while they lay idle at the fort,
though I gave them their debts and other necessaries, as
usual. On the 8th I sent off the boats for Grandes
Fourches with eight men, including Messrs. Cr^bassa,
Cadotte, and Le Sueur. This is the only outpost I shall
make on Red river this year. At Portage la Prairie are
two. Mr. Wilkie and St. Germain go to Prairie en Longue
;
Antoine Desjarlaix, to Lac des Chiens [Dog lake] ;
and
Mr. L. Dorion and T. Vaudry, to Portage la Prairie. Men
finished gathering potatoes, but the crop has failed owing
to the excessive heat, which scorched everything early in
the season. I had only 400 bushels. On the loth we were
plagued with Grandes Oreilles, Le Premier, as great a scoundrel
as ever walked, who is here with his band, and very
troublesome. He makes menaces, but to no purpose,
having lost ground with us and been obliged to come to
our measures. /////. The ground was clear of Indians.
Oct. 13th. Some of my people, who were hunting buffalo,
came upon the remains of the Sioux killed in last
summer's fight, and left by his people in the plains, not far
from the Big island on Tongue river. He had been arranged
with all the ceremonies due to a great war chief,
but the wolves, crows, and vultures had despoiled him of all
the habiliments, feathers, and other decorations.
However,
'The hamlet of Deer River, Minn., consists largely of two rival saloons
and some less reputable houses, where the lumberjacks live or resort when not
engaged in their arduous occupations. Liquor is sold openly to Indians in
defiance of law, and it is the express boast of the place that no U. S. marshal
dare show himself there. I remember seeing exactly what Henry describes :
a drunken Indian who had been swaggering and staggering about town till
had spent his last cent for whisky, groveling in a heap on the ground, hugging
the knees of a man and begging piteously for "just one more drink," with the
maudlin tears streaming down his cheeks. We do not seem to have improved
the Ojibways much between Henry's time and ours.
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