Post by liverpoolannie on Sept 12, 2008 15:05:59 GMT -5
This is part of a diary of a relative of a friend of mine ... thought it may be of interest !
Memories l877- l882
Indians: The Indians used to come and camp beside the creek. They built their wigwams at
the end of the hill where it seemed as though Little Neenah had cut off the hill. This was
a sheltered nook where there was good water and firewood. It was the family of Mackawaimi
which used this site. He was an example of the aborigine which one wishes to think of.
Mackawaimi was an oldish man, tall and thin, who walked with a lithe dignity that was
indicative of the soul. Occasionally, he ate at our table. At the time, I, as a child,
never gave a thought to the difficulties that he and his family must have had in remaining
alive. I recall that once, in the winter, some two or three of father's hogs broke through
the ice on the creek and were drowned. With some hesitation, my father suggested that
Mackawaimi might utilize some part of the carcasses. With very sincere gratitude, he took
them, saying they could utilize all. This was a case where we ourselves might have enjoyed
spare ribs. hams, etc. if we had not been stopped by artificial squeamishness.
Other Indian families camped near by, but not on Mackawaimi's site. Most of the others
belonged to the Da Corah family. There was the father of the clan, Big Jim, Sam, and a
younger, crafty member whose name comes back to me as Will. Associated with them, although
I am uncertain of their relationship, was Old Aleck and his squaw Pasigaw. Each was one-eyed.
The legend was that when Aleck was on a spree, he beat Pasigaw and blinded one eye. The camp
court took up the case and decreed that the culprit should be punished by having an eye
destroyed. They were both of them undignified and persistent beggars.
Some of the younger Indians sought work, usually grubbing out trees or in wood cutting.
Most, if not all, the Indians of that period were Winnebagos who had been removed from the
area by the Federal Government and placed on reservations west of the Mississippi. They,
having lived in a wooded land of lakes and streams, did not like the prairies so they just
walked back. In a condition of acute destitution, they begged help from those who now held
their former lands with the formula, "Me heap footsore, walkum all the way from Nebraska."
In these circumstances, there were those who were ready to exploit their need.
McMillen and the Indians: I recall father McMillen as a tall, thin, white-bearded man who
lived In the valley of the Neenah, some three miles to the north and east. There was a
large family of young men and very good looking daughters. "Old McMillen" was a friend
of the Indians, a sort of co-opted chief. They went to him with all their troubles, even
family and personal ones. All his life he never failed them and, when there was any dispute
with a white, the Indian would appeal to McMillen with the well founded statement, "McMillen,
he know."
Indian economy: The Indians followed a cycle of seasonal camps. In the spring, they hunted
wild fowl and caught the sucker and red horse that were pushing into the smaller streams to
spawn. Later, some of them made plantings of squaw corn. In late summer, they went into
Adams and Juneau counties to gather blue berries, after that, they moved to regions where
the wild rice grew in order to harvest that. Later, they went deer hunting. In the winter,
they came among the farms where they looked for work, hand-outs, and sold their manufactures:
excellent baskets made from ash splints, moccasins, beaded work -- some of this artistic and
well done. In speaking of McMillen, I forgot his son-in-law, Mr. Lee, a lawyer who lived in
Stevens Point. He was equally devoted to the welfare of the Indians and took up their rights
before the courts. Some of those who were cheated of their prey dubbed him in derision "Lo
the poor Lee." Certainly he made no money off the defense of human rights.
In those days, circa 1880, the Indians wore blankets and moccasins. The squaws had a sort
of legging coming up to the knee. In the outer side of the leg, they carried a well sharpened
knife, sheathed between the leg and the legging. With frontier toughs, this secured them
a degree of respect. Some of the men still used the bow and arrow. The bow was not very
long, of a rectangular cross section and, I believe, made of hickory. The arrows were of
wood. They danced and sang on occasion, thumping a sort of tambourine-shaped drum. We
could hear them altogether too clearly from our house. The steady monotonous beat of the
drum and an occasional shouted "hi-yah, hi-yah, hi-yah -- hee-ee-e,"
Mixed blood: There were some of the older settlers with some Indian blood. Instead of a
pride in this, they tended to forget it. There was a character of whom I often heard,
although I never saw him, Indian Jack. I surmise there was some reason for the name. What
his real name was I never knew. There was a corny anecdote about him which ran thus: at a
dance, a young woman wishing to embarrass him said, "Jack, is there a little Indian in you?"
He replied, "No miss, but there was in my mother before I was born." (Blushes).
www.wiroots.org/wimarquette/ennisdiary.html