Michigan historical collections . ks that the quail andpartridge are still with us. In camp, the Indian passed the time incleaning his rifle and smoking. The squaws did the work: dressingskins, gathering wood, cutting rushes to make mats, and stripping theelm trees to make ropes to fasten their wigwams. The squaws werealso the beasts of burden, until they became the fortunate possessorsof ponies. They were introduced to them about the year 1755, beingthe spoils of Braddocks defeat. The Indian was of a strong religious spirit, ever showing some visibleact toward some greater power. Not only did
Michigan historical collections . ks that the quail andpartridge are still with us. In camp, the Indian passed the time incleaning his rifle and smoking. The squaws did the work: dressingskins, gathering wood, cutting rushes to make mats, and stripping theelm trees to make ropes to fasten their wigwams. The squaws werealso the beasts of burden, until they became the fortunate possessorsof ponies. They were introduced to them about the year 1755, beingthe spoils of Braddocks defeat. The Indian was of a strong religious spirit, ever showing some visibleact toward some greater power. Not only did thunder and lightningarouse that feeling, but the rocks and trees contained the spirit reveredby him. Liquor had more to do with arousing the disturbing elementof the Indian than anything else. It certainly robbed him of hisearthly possessions, as well as of his life. He thought more of whiskythan of anything else. When General Cass was secretary of state, hehaving been familiar with the Indian and his habits, said to one of the. MACOMB DESCENDANTS. Judge Henry Brevoort. Mrs. Catherine Macomb McLaughlin. Mr. Robert Stanton. Mr. Micliael Boucher. Mrs. Horace Gray. Mr. John Rucker. UNVEILING OF TREATY TABLET OF GROSSE ILE. 559 noted chiefs, If you and your people would only cease the use ofwhisky, you would all be prosperous and happy. To the surprise ofthe general, the chief said, Father, we do not want blankets, we donot want ponies, we do not want our lands, but we want whisky. Sothey, poor deluded mortals, continued to drink. The Potawatomies have fallen, and the many joys that awaited theircabin doors, departed. They fell as the trees fall, torn by the moun-tains blast, and all their green leaves withered. Such was the curseof liquor, hatred and revenge: a river of death, swollen in blood, andits waves brought desolation. GROSSE ILE. BY C. M. BURTON. The occupation of this country by white people is so recent that weseem to be pioneers, or of the pioneers, ourselves. In the
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