Seegwin, a Legend of the Fur Trade

CHIPPEWA Indian women as pictured by Eastman Johnson SEEG wm A Legend of the Fur Trade Told by EDWARD W. DAVIS MR. DAVIS, who loas for many years di is the following story. No claim can be rector of the Mines Experiment Station of made for its accuracy or strict authenticity. the University of Minnesota, is usually It has been told before many campfires, identified by Minnesotans unth the develop and no doubt numerous details have been ment of the state's taconite industry. He added as well as forgotten. Yet the persist appears here in a totally different role. ence through generations of such a legend Long interested in the lore of the border is in itself interesting, and as retold by Mr. lakes canoe country, he Jias collected many Davis, Joe Blackjack's tale is a good yarn of its tales and legends, and among them and a fascinating example of north country folklore. Ed. ^Mr. John Richardson — known from Grand Portage to Fort Frances as "Jock" — was born in Scotland. After coming to America, he worked as a ONE EVENING some years ago in an old fur buyer and traveled through the Canadian lake country from end to end. In 1931 he settled on Big trapping shack on Northern Light Lake, Island, now called Jock's Island, in Saganaga Lake, Jock Richardson and I were sitting around on the Canadian side of the border. There he oper the stove after supper, waiting for bedtime, ates a lodge and resort known as the Saganaga Trad ing Post, where he lives the year around with his and Jock told me this story.! jjg jj^^j heard family. it from an old Indian called Joe Blackjack, June 1961 235 whose Ojibway name was Kiwedin Binis, great trader Pierre Gaultier, Sieur de la meaning "the clean, cold north wind." The Verendrye, who, after a four-year period two of them had met when Jock first came of disfavor, again held a permit from the to live in the border country, and over the King of France for a monopoly of the fur years they became good friends. According trade west of the great lake. to Jock, the old Chippewa knew more Landing on the beach, the voyageurs un about the rivers, lakes, and portages at the loaded the trade goods and supplies. In eastern end of the Rainy Lake watershed four days of hard labor the canoes and all than anyone else. He always said Black the packs were carried over the nine-mile jack was a good man — honest, straight trail that bypassed the many falls and forward, and the cleanest Indian he had rapids in the lower Pigeon River. The long ever seen. I met the old fellow just once, path was open and well packed down, but I can clearly recall his smiling face full since the Verendrye family had cleared all of wrinkles and his small squinty eyes. He the portages on the road to Rainy Lake died in 1942 on the reservation at Sheban- seventeen years before, and the route had dowan Lake in Ontario. been in constant use during the succeed When they were trapping together dur ing seasons. In spots the mud was deep and ing the fall beaver hunt of 1932, Blackjack there was much grumbling, but at last told Jock the long tale which had been everything was assembled at the upper passed from generation to generation in river, the canoes were gummed, and the his family. This took several evenings party embarked. After the grueHng work around the campfire, for Blackjack spoke on the long portage, the men were glad to in Ojibway and talked slowly, so that Jock be on the water again, and the knowledge could follow and understand. that at the end of the day a keg of high When Jock repeated the tale to me that wine would be given to them added speed night in the shack on Northern Light it to their naturally rapid paddle strokes. sounded like pure fiction, but later we went That evening they unloaded their canoes to work on it, checking names and dates. and turned them over on the shore. All As we went along our interest increased, preparations for the night were made at because the story did seem to Hne up — once, for no more work would be done in a rough sort of way — with the diaries after the spirits were distributed. The lead and journals of some of the early travelers er gave a nine-gallon keg to the men and and voyageurs who passed along the bor took a mug to his tent for himself. His was der lakes canoe route. the only tent; the men slept in their blan Here it is as Blackjack told it, but with kets under the canoes. the addition of a few dates and places, and Louis-Joseph, the bourgeois of the red sometimes names, when Jock and I could beard, as his voyageurs called him, was a figure them out. Blackjack had learned the big man, but quick in his movements and tale from his grandmother, who had learned quick with his temper, too. Few ever it from her grandmother, so it is no wonder crossed him. He started a small fire and that some of the details are blurred and made some porridge of meal and pemmi lost. can, and while it heated he drank spar ingly of his liquor. He could hear the shouts EARLY IN JULY of the year 1748 a bri and songs of his voyageurs getting louder gade of five canoes with thirty French- and louder, but until they were all drunk and Canadian voyageurs approached Grand asleep, he must keep watch. There would, Portage, after a journey of many days he knew, be fighting before the night was across Lake Superior. In command was over, and it would be necessary for him to Louis-Joseph Gaultier, youngest son of the take away the knives of those who became 236 MINNESOTA History overwrought. He wanted no injured men It was sad, he thought, that a man had no who could not work. woman to comfort him when he was de As he drank his spirits and ate his por pressed. Ah, well, thank God he still had ridge, his thoughts wandered. He had brandy, and he took one more drink, pat traveled this route many times — had, in ting the half-empty bottle. Then he kicked deed, been with his brother Frangois as out the fire, rolled up in his blanket, and far west as the great mountains beyond the went to sleep. Mandan villages. He was glad to return to The bourgeois allowed his men to sleep this land of lakes after his absence in the late the next morning, and the sun was East, and he looked forward to renevdng nearing the treetops before the brigade got acquaintances along the way and to the under way. It was only a short distance up grand celebration when they reached Fort the river to the next portage which was St. Pierre. His old friend, Wagosh, the Fox, long and muddy. Louis knew the cruel, on Saganaga Lake would be surprised to sobering effect of a carrying strap across see him. Perhaps he could get a new canoe the forehead after a night of drink, and he there if Wagosh's people had one made. It knew that when the men had carried over had been a good trip thus far, he felt. The the pieces and the canoes their steps would liquor warmed him, and he was happy and be far less faltering. Nevertheless, camp relaxed. was made early that night, and though a The noise from the camp was rising, and few of the men heated food, many rolled he could hear Pierre, the leader of the men, up in their blankets and slept immediately. louder and more quarrelsome than the rest. The next day was better, and after mak At a sudden burst of shouting, he rose and ing five portages, they camped on the beau left his tent. He saw that many of the men tiful Mountain Lake. Here the men built were already asleep, but a few were still five separate fires, and set great brass on their feet, and Pierre stood before them kettles to boiling pemmican and Indian waving a knife around his head and curs corn. Each man carried at his belt a wood ing wildly. Louis immediately moved in en bowl and a knife. What more did he and demanded the knife. Pierre lurched at need besides a blanket to sit on in the him with a wild swing, which the burgeois canoe and to sleep in at night? A pipe and easily avoided. Catching the voyageur's tobacco, of course — every bit as impor wrist, he shook the knife from his grasp, tant as food — and a few beads and span and slapped him with his open hand. gles. What could these be for? Aha, what Pierre sat down heavily and began to cry, else? They would soon reach Indian coun but Louis rolled the keg over to him and try, would they not, and beautiful women? the trouble was ended. The other men The brigade moved on across lakes and staggered slowly away, and Louis, survey over portages. The men often sang, now, ing them, knew that peace and quiet would as they swung their narrow paddles in rule the camp in a short time. short, quick strokes. This pleased Louis. Back at his tent, he set a kettle to heat He was always glad when the men started ing, and rummaging around in his pack, a song, because it made him feel that all came up with some tea and a bottle of was well with them.

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