Now the game was to run and jump on the bark, the feet striking the rough bark of the upper piece, and unless well practised in the art, the upper bark would fly from under the moment the feet struck it. I have seen many a novice in the art fly off when his feet struck the bark as if he had taken his departure for some other planet. It took long and careful practise to be able to strike the slippery bark and not go down. This exercise created a great deal of amusement in our summer sports.

Nut Gathering.-But the great enjoyable seasons were the maple sugar making in the spring, and gathering hickory nuts in the fall of the year. The latter always commenced in the Indian summer days in the fall, usually in November. After the frosts had loosened the nuts, they were showered down by every wind, and the ground would be white with them, all free from the shell, lying ready to be gathered by the Indian children or the coon and bears, that were very fond of these rich thin shelled nuts. These animals grew very fat on them, as there was always an abundance, it being a great hickory country.

The abundance of the "shellbark" hickory in the woods at that day (a very few of which still remain) was a source of profit as well as pleasure. Many thousands of bushels were annually gathered by the Indians, purchased by the traders and shipped to eastern markets.

Rev. Isaac Van Tassel, the head of the mission, was one of the kindest and purest of men, always just and generous. His wife, the daughter of Rev. Badger (one of the earliest missionaries of the West), was equally well fitted by her universal kindness of heart and manner to aid her husband in this noble work. Elder Coe was one of the active workers and became a great friend of the Indians; they in return gave him their full confidence and from his exceeding kindness called him the "Tender Heart. Mr. Thomas Mackelrath, one of the teachers, was always kind to us; Miss Riggs, one of the "old maid" teachers, was as kind to us as any mother could be, too good and noble a woman to remain an old maid," which I believe she did.

Mr. Van Tassel removed to a farm near Bowling Green, where he died about 1850. Mrs. Van Tassel survived her husband many years, dying in Maumee City a few years ago, the last survivor of the mission teachers. The kind-hearted old man, "Uncle Coe," as my father called him, died many years before Mr. Van Tassel. When the mission broke up, in 1835 or 1836, many of those still living returned to their homes in the East.

Dayton Riley.-Prominent in my memory of the characters of that time was Dayton Riley, a brother of the well-known William Riley, who was taken in Algiers and was a slave of the Arabs for a number of years. This man Dayton Riley wandered into this wilderness country about the time of the founding of the mission, and being a carpenter and handy at all work, was employed and

made his home at the mission until it broke up. He followed the life of a trapper and hunter, and after a hard and weary season of trapping would find his way back to the mission to rest and recruit his failing strength during his declining years. He became somewhat dissipated, as most of his occupation do sooner or later, but lived to quite an advanced age.

Waseon and Ottokee were noble red men. Finer or more perfect specimens of the human physique, or of natural mental ability, are seldom found anywhere. Ottokee, the older of the two brothers (or half brothers, as they really were), was a man six feet high, weighing about two hundred pounds, and when speaking on the floor of the Council Lodge was as dignified and as noble in demeanor as a Clay or Webster, and had as much force and eloquence as their limited language would permit.

Wa-se-on (which signifies far off) was not so fleshy, but had a heavy frame and was quite as large a man as his older brother Ottokee, yet not so great an orator, but a very intelligent man and a good speaker.

There were two other brothers of this family named No-tin-no (or the calm) and Wasa-on-quet. The latter was at one time the head chief of the Ottowas of the Maumee valley, but through dissipation and debauchery, consequent upon his intercourse with the white traders, he was "broken" of his office and reduced to a private member of the tribe. He was one of the most eloquent speakers I ever heard. He died from the effects of whiskey soon after being removed west of the Mississippi.

No-tin-no, the oldest of the four brothers, was living the last I knew of him.

He was

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a good speaker, but not as eloquent as either of his brothers. These men were the sons of the noted Ottawa chief, O-to-sah, if I remember correctly, by different mothers. two of them, I think, were full brothers, polygamy being a legalized institution among all the Indian tribes with which I have been personally acquainted.

Aw-pa-to-wa-jo-win, or "half way," was about half way from the mouth of the river to Fort Defiance, and also half way from Detroit to Fort Wayne, the then two principal trading points of the country. The presiding chief of this village was an old man whose active life had long since passed but who was always received in the councils of the tribe with great respect. His name was Kin-jo-a-no. This chief had but one son, a very intelligent young man, whose name was Muc-cut-a-mong. He was killed, however, while yet a young man, by the hand of his own cousin (Pe-way) at one of the corndances held by this tribe.

There were many other noted chiefs of these tribes inhabiting at this time the valleys of the Maumee, Auglaize, St. Maries and St. Joseph. Among them were Charlow, Shaw-wun-no, Pe-ton-i-quet, Nac-i-chewa, Oc-que-nox-ie, the latter chief having his village on the Auglaize. This man was

a natural-born savage, and really the only Indian I was ever much afraid of when a boy, for he was ugly either drunk or sober, and always manifested a desire or disposition to take somebody's scalp. He had great influence with the tribe, especially in their councils of war. All the other chiefs and head men that I came in contact with, without a single exception (when not crazed and maddened by whiskey, or "fire-water), were kind-hearted, generous and always honorable.

The very last speech made by an Indian in the country in council was made by Ottokee at a treaty or council with the United States government agents, for the purpose of their removal West. Many did not come into the council and consent to be removed, but remained in the deep forests of the Maumee and Auglaize valleys for a few years, wandering from place to place and camping wherever they found a white man who was kind enough to allow them to do so.

Ottokee and Wascon were among the last to remove from this county, having gone west in the spring of 1838. These chiefs lived but a few years in their new homes and died comparatively young, Waseon being not over forty-five years old.

The lands which were assigned to these Indians, and to which they were removed, lie upon the Osage river in Kansas, about sixty miles south of Kansas City and not far from the flourishing village of Ottawa.

The old block-house is gone! It took fire from the chimney on Monday, May 20, 1879, and was burned down. One by one the relics of a past generation pass away, and this was almost the last one of any note in northwestern Ohio.

The land was purchased of the United States government, and the post established in the year 1831 or '32. It was put up as an Indian trading house, used as a magazine, or in the French trader's parlance a store and fort, for the safety of the trader and the protection of his furs and goods. They were usually built of hewn logs of great size, as this one was, and when completed with heavy split puncheons for roof, made a building that was a perfect protection against the assault of any ordinary band of drunken Indians or their more vicious associates, renegade white men and half-breed Indians, who were often ugly from a too free use of the white man's Schoo-ta-ne-be or fire-water, which was always furnished them by the less sensitive or unscrupulous trader.

Indian Trading House.-In the spring of 1832 my father engaged two white men, whose names I have forgotten, to build an "Indian Trading House,' as such buildings were called at that day on the frontier. The house was located near the site of the village of the chief Winameg, furnished a stock of Indian goods early in the winter, and a regular Indian trading establishment opened.

A young man by the name of Wilkinson, nephew of old Capt. Dave Wilkinson, the veteran captain of the Lakes, was put in

charge, as the French frontiersman would say, the Boorzwa of the concern, my father judging that I was a little too wild to be at the head, and might shut up the block-house, mount my pony and ride away to some Indian village where a big dance was going on, and say, as my old friend Frank Holister said on such occasions, that it was a poor store that couldn't tend itself sometimes.

Indian Goods.-The stock of Indian goods mainly consisted of red and green blankets, with the pure white marked with broad black stripes across the end, and always of British manufacture, Turkey red calicoes and Merrimac blue, with a few light patterns, blue and green English broadcloths, large cotton handkerchiefs and shawls (used almost entirely for the head as turbans), guns, tomahawks, butcher-knives, powder, lead shot and lead balls, brass trinkets, rings, beads, wampum, small bells to ornament the sides of leggings, silver brooches, rings for the nose and ears, with Turkish vermilion to paint the face. Fine saddles and highly ornamented bridles, trimmed with silver-plated bits, tinsel and colored leathers, were great articles of trade. The Fur Trade. Many of the roving traders sold whiskey to the Indians; but as a rule the principal traders did not sell it to them, for it destroyed the ability of the Indian to make much of a hunt, and of course was not in the interest of the trader whose aim was the procuring of furs and skins, which mainly constituted the trade.

Bear, wolf, otter, mink, muskrat, raccoon, fisher, the red cross and silver-gray fox were the principal furs taken, the beaver having nearly all disappeared. The last beaver caught in the county was taken on the Little St. Joseph, near the present village of Pioneer, in 1837, by a Pottawatomie chief named Mete-ah, for which I paid in goods twenty dollars, it being a very large one, and the last that had been taken for many years.

The prices of these furs at that time were $3 to $4 for bear, the same for otter, 40 cents for rat, 30 cents for mink, 50 cents for fox, $2 for fisher, coon 25 cents, deer-skins 75 cents to $1.25, wolf 25 cents, silver-gray fox from $25 to $75. In exchange for these we sold blankets (according to size) from $2 to $6. Turkey calicoes 75 cents to $1 per yard, blue 50 cents to 75 cents, and all other goods at about the same rates. Lead was 50 cents and powder $1 per pound.

We had a very good trade for a year or two at this post, and then the general government began to agitate the removal of the Indians. The business of the old house was changed to a country tavern, and was patronized solely by the white man. The dusky form of the Indian was seen no more about the spring and the camping ground, and his familiar whoop and drunken song were no more heard passing the old post, for he had taken up his line of march toward the setting

sun.

The Old Council Elm.-This noble old tree, a monarch of the forest, has a history connected with the incidents of the Maumee

valley. The tree was a white elm, standing on a beautiful spot on the north bank of the river, being four or five feet in diameter, and fifty feet to the first limb. It was crowned with an immense top that covered with its shade a number of square rods of beautiful green sward. The spot where it stood being at a point very near and overlooking the "Grand Rapids" (the grandest of the entire succession of rapids from Fort Meigs), and within sound of its never ceasing murmur, it was selected long ago by the Indians as a favorite council ground, and consequently this tree became known in the early days by the traders and settlers as the "Council Elm."

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It was destroyed by a severe storm in July, 1879. While the canal basin and dam were being constructed at Grand Rapids, young Jackson, at that time a very young man, was the Assistant Engineer of the Public Works of Ohio, in charge of this the public work. Herge part of quainted with the tradition and more recent history and was a great admirer of the noble old tree, and loved to sit under its cooling shade and enjoy the cool breeze during his leisure hours. On one occasion one of the workmen kindled a fire on the roots of the old tree; the young engineer, highly incensed, first put out the fire, and then calling up the man who had built it, gave him to understand that any future aggressions upon the old elm would cause the perpetrator such chastisement as he would not readily forget. This Jackson was well able and ready to give, for he had without doubt some of the "Old Hero's blood in his veins, as I have often heard him express himself in strong language, using By the Eternal" with the variations, and woe be to him who fell under his displeasure, for cause.

The once large and populous village of Kinjo-a-no, or Ap-a-to-wa-jo-win, was situated at the foot of the Grand Rapids, nearly a mile below the old elm, and as the tree was isolated from the noise and turmoil of an Indian village, it was frequently selected as the council-ground for many important gatherings of the chiefs and head men of the Ottawas and Pottawatomies.

The great council which impressed me most was the last council of any importance ever held under its spreading branches.

Bad White Men.-It was some time after the lands had been ceded to the general government, the Indians still retaining possession of the lands.

After the treaties had been made the valley renegade white hunters and trappers, whiskey-sellers, and bee-hunters (for the hollow trees were filled with wild honey) destroyed the Indians' traps, often stole their horses, and run them far out of the reach of their owners.

I was then a mere boy, but all my sympathies were with the much abused Indians, and I was rather in hopes that some dark night these intruders and renegades would be wiped But the better and wiser counsels of

out.

Wa-se-on, Ottokee, Pe-ton-i-quet, Nac-i-chewa, and other noted chiefs prevailed, and the Indians bore their wrongs with a grace and patience unparalleled among civilized people.

Uncle Peter Menard, my father, and Col. George Knaggs, being great friends of the Indians, were importuned to intercede for them with the government agent, that these abuses might be stopped and redress made for losses already inflicted.

The Indian Council.-Col. Jackson, the kind-hearted agent, was ready to co-operate with his friends in giving the redress asked for. promised that the matter should be laid before the authorities at Washington, and called a council to be held under the big elm.

Some days previous to the day set for the council the Indians began to arrive by the morning of the council-day the chiefs and head men were nearly all present in the village, and at ten o'clock the assembled braves were ready for the grand smoke and talk with the white chief, O-ke-maw-wa-bush-ke. It was a warm day, and all enjoyed the shade of the old tree. Seated upon a log sat the dignified Col. Jackson, and on his left Uncle Peter Menard and my father. The Indians composing the council sat on the ground in a semicircle in front of the white men, and the younger warriors and hunters not admitted to the charmed circle sat in groups under the shade of the old elm, silent but interested spectators. Although a boy, I had been chosen by Col. Jackson to act as interpreter.

Speech of Ottokee.-At a signal from the agent that the council was convened the head chief, Ottokee, lit the pipe of kinnekanick; it was passed from mouth to mouth, the white men participating in the ceremony, and it was not until several pipesful of the fragrant weed had been exhausted that the council was ready to proceed with the “big talk." Col. Jackson then said that "his ears were open, and he would listen to the words of the chiefs." After a few minutes of perfect silence Ottokee rose to his feet-a noble specimen of a native orator—and, with the dignity of a prince, his arms folded across his breast, he commenced the delivery of the great speech of the occasion. He portrayed in glowing colors the situation of his people, the faith they had kept with their white brothers and with their great father, the President of the United States; that they believed his words when he said he would protect them in their rights while remaining in their old homes from the intrusions of white men until he should be ready to move them to their new homes west of the great river (Mississippi), but he was so far away that he could not see or hear his red children when they called to him in their distress. They had called many times to have him drive away the bad white men, but he did not hear them.

The Great Father is good, but the white men fill his ears, and he cannot hear the red men call. My white brother sitting before me is the half-brother of the Great Chief at