John Tanner - A narrative of the captivity and adventures of John Tanner

Very early next morning, I saw two of the friends of the young man that was killed coming towards our lodge. At first I was somewhat alarmed, as I supposed they came with the intention of doing violence; but I soon perceived they were without arms. They came in, and sat a long time silent. At last one of them said, “Where is our brother? We are sometimes lonely at home, and we wish to talk with him.” I told them he had but lately gone out, and would soon return. As they remained a long time, and insisted on seeing him, I went out, with the pretence of seeking for him, but without the remotest expectation that he would be found. He, however, had observed from his hiding place the visit of the two young men to our lodge, and not believing it to have been made with any unfriendly design, discovered himself to me and we returned together. They shook hands with him, and treated him with great kindness, and we soon afterwards ascertained that all the reports of their wishing to kill him were false.

About the time of the conclusion of the council, Gov. Cass called me to dine with him; and as many gentlemen asked me to drink wine with them, I was, after dinner, scarce able to walk home. A few days afterwards the interpreter told me the governor had a curiosity to know whether I had acquired the same fondness the Indians usually have for intoxicating liquors, and whether, when drunk, I would behave as they did. But I had not felt the influence of the wine so much as to forget myself, or become unconscious of my situation, and I went immediately to my lodge and lay there until I was entirely sober.

Some of the Potawattomies had stolen the horse that was lent me on the road by the friendly old man, called Ah-koo-nah-goo-zik; but he was recovered by the young men who followed my friend Be-nais-sa, and I restored him to the owner who was at the council. Governor Cass, understanding how kind this man had been to me directed that a very handsome and valuable saddle should be given him. The old man for some time persisted in declining this present, but at last, when prevailed upon to receive it, he expressed much gratitude. “This,” said he, “is that which was told me by the old men who gave me instruction many years ago when I was a child. They told me to be kind, and to do good to all men, particularly to the stranger who should come from a distant country, and to all who were destitute and afflicted; saying, if I did so, the Great Spirit would also remember me, to do good to me, and reward me for what I had done. Now, though I have done so little for this man, how amply and honourably am I rewarded!” He would have persuaded me to take his horse, as he said he had more, and the saddle was more valuable than the horse he had lent me; and though I declined his offer, still he insisted upon it, until I consented that he should consider it as belonging to me, and should take care of it until I returned and called for it. Here the governor gave me goods to the amount of one hundred and twenty dollars value, and as I had still a considerable journey to make, I purchased a horse for eighty dollars, for which I gave a part of the goods I had received. There were at the council, among others, two men from Kentucky who knew something of my relations, one of them having lived from a child in the family of one of my sisters.

With these two men I started, though my health was still very poor. In a few days I had become so much worse that I could not sit on my horse, and they concluded to purchase a skiff, and one of them to take me down by water, while the other went with the horses by the usual route. In that part of the Big Miami are many mill-dams and other obstructions which rendered even this method, not only slow and laborious, but extremely distressing to me on account of my ill health. At last I was reduced to such a state of weakness as to be quite unable to move, and I stopped at the house of a poor man who lived on the bank of the river, and as he seemed greatly to pity me, and was disposed to do all in his power for my relief, I determined to remain with him, the man with whom I had travelled thus far making me understand that he would go to the Ohio, and either come back himself, or send some one after me.

This man with whom I stopped could speak a few words of Ottawwaw, and he did every thing in his power to render my situation comfortable, until my nephew, who was the person sent by my friends in Kentucky, came for me. By him I heard of the death of my father, and also some particulars of my surviving relatives. Before Gish-kau-ko, at Detroit, I had always supposed that the greater part, if not all of my father’s family, had been murdered by Manitoo-geezhik and his party the year subsequent to my capture. Our journey was very tedious and difficult to Cincinnati, where we rested a little. Thence we descended the Ohio in a skiff. My fever continued to return daily, and when the chill commenced, we were compelled to stop for some time so that our progress was not rapid. We were accompanied by one man who assisted my nephew to put me in and take me out of the skiff, for I was now reduced to a mere skeleton, and had not strength enough to walk or stand by myself.

As the night was coming on, after a very dark and cloudy day, we arrived at a handsome farm where was a large and rather good looking house. It was quite dark when we were ready to leave the skiff. They then raised me by the arms, and led, or rather carried me to the house. My nephew told the man our situation, and stated that I was so unwell it would be extremely difficult, and must even endanger my life, if we attempted to go farther; but he told us we could not stay at his house all night; and when my nephew persisted in his request, he drove us roughly and violently out of the house. The night had now considerably advanced, and the distance to the next house was a mile and a half; but as it stood back from the river, we could not go to it in our skiff. They accordingly supported me between them, and we went on. It was probably after midnight when we arrived at a large brick house. The people within were all in bed, and all the windows were dark, but my nephew knocked at the door, and after a little time a man came out. When he saw me he took hold of me, and assisted me to go in; then he called up his wife and daughters, and gave some supper to my companions. For me he prepared some medicine, and then made me go to bed, where I slept very quietly until late in the morning. At this house, I remained nearly all the next day, and was treated with the utmost kindness. From this time I began to get a little better, and without much more difficulty, I reached the place where my sister’s children were living. I stayed one night at the house of one of my nephews, whose name was John; then I went to the house of another brother, where I lay sick about a month.

A letter was now received which they made me understand was for me, but though they read it to me repeatedly, I could not comprehend a single word of the contents. All the time since my arrival here, I had lain sick, and no one being for any considerable part of the time with me, I had not learned either to understand, or make myself understood; but as I was now some better, and able often to walk about, when a second letter came, I could understand from it that my brother Edward, whose name I had never forgotten, had gone to Red River to search for me. Also, that one of my uncles, who lived one hundred miles distant, had sent for me to come to him.

My greatest anxiety was now on account of my brother Edward, and I immediately called for my horse, intending to return towards Red River and search for him. Twenty or thirty of the neighbours assembled around me when they heard that I wished to go back, and I could comprehend that they wished to dissuade me from going. But when they found I was obstinate, they gave me each a little money: some one shilling, some two shillings, and others larger sums, and I got upon my horse and started. I had rode about ten miles when fatigue and sickness overcame me, and I was compelled to stop at the house of man, whose name, as I afterwards learned, was Morgan. Here I stayed four days, and when I again called for my horse, the neighbours, as before, began to gather round me, and each to give me something. One gave me some bread in a bag, another tied a young pig behind my saddle, and among them all they furnished me with a good outfit of provisions, and some money. I wished to return to Detroit, but as I was still very weak, Mr. Morgan accompanied me to Cincinnati. I had found that it made me sick to sleep in a house, and on this journey I constantly refused to do so. Mr. Morgan would sleep in the houses where we stopped at night, but I chose a good place outside, where I lay down and slept, and I found the advantage of doing so, by the partial recovery of my health. After Mr. Morgan returned from Cincinnati, I travelled on alone, and was before long destitute of provisions. About this time, an old man who was standing by the door of his house when he saw me, called out stop! come! I could understand no more than these two words, but I knew from the expression of his countenance, and his manner, that his design was friendly, and accordingly went into his yard. He took my horse and gave him plenty of corn, and I accompanied him into the house, where, though they placed food before me, I could not eat. Seeing this, he gave me some nuts, a few of which I ate. When he saw that my horse had eaten, and I was impatient to start, he put on the saddle, and brought the horse. I offered him money, but he would not take it.