letters on literature-第14章

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deal；　when　she　met　white　men。　　You　want　to　know　if　〃She〃　is　a　true

story。　　Of　course　it　is！



But　you　have　read　〃She；〃　and　you　have　read　all　Cooper's；　and

Marryat's；　and　Mr。　Stevenson's　books；　and　〃Tom　Sawyer；〃　and

〃Huckleberry　Finn；〃　several　times。　　So　have　I；　and　am　quite　ready　to

begin　again。　　But；　to　my　mind；　books　about　〃Red　Indians〃　have　always

seemed　much　the　most　interesting。　　At　your　age；　I　remember；　I　bought

a　tomahawk；　and；　as　we　had　also　lots　of　spears　and　boomerangs　from

Australia；　the　poultry　used　to　have　rather　a　rough　time　of　it。



I　never　could　do　very　much　with　a　boomerang；　but　I　could　throw　a

spear　to　a　hair's　breadth；　as　many　a　chicken　had　occasion　to

discover。　　When　you　go　home　for　Christmas　I　hope　you　will　remember

that　all　this　was　very　wrong；　and　that　you　will　consider　we　are

civilized　people；　not　Mohicans；　nor　Pawnees。　　I　also　made　a　stone

pipe；　like　Hiawatha's；　but　I　never　could　drill　a　hole　in　the　stem；

so　it　did　not　〃draw〃　like　a　civilized　pipe。



By　way　of　an　awful　warning　to　you　on　this　score；　and　also；　as　you

say　you　want　a　true　book　about　Red　Indians；　let　me　recommend　to　you

the　best　book　about　them　I　ever　came　across。　　It　is　called　〃A

Narrative　of　the　Captivity　and　Adventures　of　John　Tanner；　during

Thirty　Years'　Residence　among　the　Indians；〃　and　it　was　published　at

New　York　by　Messrs。　Carvill；　in　1830。



If　I　were　an　American　publisher；　instead　of　a　British　author　（how　I

wish　I　was！）　I'd　publish　〃John　Tanner〃　again；　or　perhaps　cut　a　good

deal　out；　and　make　a　boy's　book　of　it。　　You　are　not　likely　to　get　it

to　buy；　but　Mr。　Steevens；　the　American　bookseller；　has　found　me　a

copy。　　If　I　lend　you　it；　will　you　be　kind　enough　to　illustrate　it　on

separate　sheets　of　paper；　and　not　make　drawings　on　the　pages　of　the

book？　　This　will；　in　the　long　run；　be　more　satisfactory　to　yourself；

as　you　will　be　able　to　keep　your　pictures；　for　I　want　〃John　Tanner〃

back　again：　　and　don't　lend　him　to　your　fag…master。



Tanner　was　born　about　1780；　he　lived　in　Kentucky。　　Don't　you　wish

you　had　lived　in　Kentucky　in　Colonel　Boone's　time？　　The　Shawnees

were　roaming　about　the　neighbourhood　when　Tanner　was　a　little　boy。

His　uncle　scalped　one　of　them。　　This　made　bad　feeling　between　the

Tanners　and　the　Shawnees；　but　John；　like　any　boy　of　spirit；　wished

never　to　learn　lessons；　and　wanted　to　be　an　Indian　brave。　　He　soon

had　more　of　being　a　brave　than　he　liked；　but　he　never　learned　any

more　lessons；　and　could　not　even　read　or　write。



One　day　John's　father　told　him　not　to　leave　the　house；　because　from

the　movements　of　the　horses；　he　knew　that　Indians　were　in　the　woods。

So　John　seized　the　first　chance　and　nipped　out；　and　ran　to　a　walnut

tree　in　one　of　the　fields；　where　he　began　filling　his　straw　hat　with

walnuts。　　At　that　very　moment　he　was　caught　by　two　Indians；　who

spilled　the　nuts；　put　his　hat　on　his　head；　and　bolted　with　him。　　One

of　the　old　women　of　the　tribe　had　lost　her　son；　and　wanted　to　adopt

a　boy；　and　so　they　adopted　Johnny　Tanner。　　They　ran　with　him　till　he

was　out　of　breath；　till　they　reached　the　Ohio；　where　they　threw　him

into　a　canoe；　paddled　across；　and　set　off　running　again。



In　ten　days'　hard　marching　they　reached　the　camp；　and　it　was　worse

than　going　to　a　new　school；　for　all　the　Indians　kicked　John　Tanner

about；　and　〃their　dance；〃　he　says；　〃was　brisk　and　cheerful；　after

the　manner　of　the　scalp　dance！〃　　Cheerful　for　John！　　He　had　to　lie

between　the　fire　and　the　door　of　the　lodge；　and　every　one　who　passed

gave　him　a　kick。　　One　old　man　was　particularly　cruel。　　When　Tanner

was　grown　up；　he　came　back　to　that　neighbourhood；　and　the　first

thing　he　asked　was；　〃Where　is　Manito…o…geezhik？〃



〃Dead；　two　months　since。〃



〃It　is　well　that　he　is　dead；〃　said　John　Tanner。　　But　an　old　female

chief；　Net…ko…kua；　adopted　him；　and　now　it　began　to　be　fun。　　For　he

was　sent　to　shoot　game　for　the　family。　　Could　anything　be　more

delightful？　　His　first　shot　was　at　pigeons；　with　a　pistol。　　The

pistol　knocked　down　Tanner；　but　it　also　knocked　down　the　pigeon。　　He

then　caught　martinsand　measles；　which　was　less　entertaining。　　Even

Indians　have　measles！　　But　even　hunting　is　not　altogether　fun；　when

you　start　with　no　breakfast　and　have　no　chance　of　supper　unless　you

kill　game。



The　other　Red　Indian　books；　especially　the　cheap　ones；　don't　tell

you　that　very　often　the　Indians　are　more　than　half…starved。　　Then

some　one　builds　a　magic　lodge；　and　prays　to　the　Great　Spirit。

Tanner　often　did　this；　and　he　would　then　dream　how　the　Great　Spirit

appeared　to　him　as　a　beautiful　young　man；　and　told　him　where　he

would　find　game；　and　prophesied　other　events　in　his　life。　　It　is

curious　to　see　a　white　man　taking　to　the　Indian　religion；　and　having

exactly　the　same　sort　of　visions　as　their　red　converts　described　to

the　Jesuit　fathers　nearly　two　hundred　years　before。



Tanner　saw　some　Indian　ghosts；　too；　when　he　grew　up。　　On　the　bank　of

the　Little　Saskawjewun　there　was　a　capital　camping…place　where　the

Indians　never　camped。　　It　was　called　Jebingneezh…o…shin…naut〃the

place　of　two　Dead　Men。〃　　Two　Indians　of　the　same　totem　had　killed

each　other　there。　　Now；　their　totem　was　that　which　Tanner　bore；　the

totem　of　his　adopted　Indian　mother。　　The　story　was　that　if　any　man

camped　there；　the　ghosts　would　come　out　of　their　graves；　and　that

was　just　what　happened。　　Tanner　made　the　experiment；　he　camped　and

fell　asleep。　　〃Very　soon　I　saw　the　two　dead　men　come　and　sit　down　by

my　fire　opposite　me。　　I　got　up　and　sat　opposite　them　by　the　fire；

and　in　this　position　I　awoke。〃　　Perhaps　he　fell　asleep　again；　for　he

now　saw　the　two　dead　men；　who　sat　opposite　to　him；　and　laughed　and

poked　fun　and　sticks　at　him。　　He　could　neither　speak　nor　run　away。

One　of　them　showed　him　a　horse　on　a　hill；　and　said；　〃There；　my

brother；　is　a　horse　I　give　you　to　ride　on　your　journey　home；　and　on

your　way　you　can　call　and　leave　the　horse；　and　spend　another　night

with　us。〃　　So；　next　morning；　he　found　the　horse　and　rode　it；　but　he

did　not　spend　another　night　with　the　ghosts　of　his　own　totem。　　He

had　seen　enough　of　them。



Though　Tanner　believed　in　his　own　dreams　of　the　Great　Spirit；　he　did

not　believe　in　those　of　his　Indian　mother。　　He　thought　she　used　to

prowl　about　in　the　daytime；　find　tracks　of　a　bear　or　deer；　watch

where　they　went　to；　and　then　say　the　beast's　lair　had　been　revealed

to　her　in　a　dream。　　But　Tanner's　own　visions　were　〃honest　Injun。〃

Once；　in　a　hard　winter；　Tanner　played　a　trick　on　the　old　woman。　　All

the　food　they　had　was　a　quart　of　frozen　bears'　grease；　kept　in　a

kettle　with　a　skin　fastened　over　it。　　But　Tanner　caught　a　rabbit

alive　and　popped　him　under　the　skin。　　So　when　the　old　woman　went　for

the　bears'　grease　in　the　morning；　and　found　it　alive；　she　was　not　a

little　alarmed。



But　does　not　the　notion　of　living　on　frozen　pomatum　rather　take　the

gilt　off　the　delight　of　being　an　Indian？　　The　old　woman　was　as　brave

and　resolute　as　a　man；　but　in　one　day　she　sold　a　hundred　and　twenty

beaver　skins　and　many　buffalo　robes　for　rum。　　She　always　entertained

all　the　neighbouring　Indians　as　long　as　the　rum　lasted；　and　Tanner

had　a　narrow　escape　of　growing　up　a　drunkard。　　He　became　such　a

savage　that　when　an　Indian　girl　carelessly　allowed　his　wigwam　to　be

burned；　he　stripped　her　of　her　blanket　and　turned　her　out　for　the

night　in　the　snow。



So　Tanner　grew　up　in　spite　of　hunger　and　drink。　　Once；　when

starving；　and　without　bullets；　he　met　a　buck　moose。　　If　he　killed

the　moose　he　would　be　saved；　if　he　did　not　he　would　die。　　So　he　took

the　screws　out　of　the　lock　of　his　rifle；　loaded　with　them　in　place

of　bullets；　tied　the　lock　on　with　string；　fired；　and　killed　the

moose。



Tanner　was　worried　into　marrying　a　young　squaw　（at　least　he　says　he

did　it　because　the　girl　wanted　it）；　and　this　led　to　all　his　sorrows…

…this　and　a　quarrel　with　a　medicine…man。　　The　medicine…man　accused

him　of　being　a　wizard；　and　his　wife　got　another　Indian　to　shoot　him。

Tanner　was　far　from　surgeons；　and　he　actually　hacked　out　the　bullet

himself　with　an　old　razor。　　Another　wounded　Indian　once　amputated

his　own　arm。　　The　ancient　Spartans　could　not　have　been　pluckier。

The　Indians　had　other　virtues　as　well　as　pluck。　　They　were　honest

and　so　hospitable；　before　they　knew　white　men's　ways；　that　they

would　give　poor　strangers　new　mocassins　and　new　buffalo　cloaks。



Will　it　bore　you；　my　dear　Dick；　if　I　tell　you　of　an　old　Indian's

death？　　It　seems　a　pretty　and　touching　story。　　Old　Pe…shau…ba　was　a

friend　of　Tanner。　　One　day　he　fell　violently　ill。　　He　sent　for

Tanner　and　said　to　him：　　〃I　remember　before　I　came　to　live　in　this

world；　I　was　with　the　Great　Spirit　above。　　I　saw　many　good　and

desirable　things；　and　among　others　a　beautiful　woman。　　And　the　Great

Spirit　said：　　'Pe…shau…ba；　do　you　love　the　woman？'　　I　told　him　I

did。　　Then　he　said；　'Go　down　and　spend　a　few　winters　on　earth。　　You

cannot　stay　long；　and　you　must　remember　to　be　always　kind　and　good

to　my　children　whom　you　see　below。'　　So　I　came　down；　but　I　have

never　forgotten　what　was　said　to　me。



〃I　have　always　stood　in　the　smoke　between　the　two　bands　when　my

people　fought　with　their　enemies　。　。　。　I　now　hear　the　same　voice

that　talked　to　me　before　I　came　into　the　world。　　It　tells　me　I　can

remain　here　no　longer。〃　　He　then　walked　out；　looked　at　the　sun；　the

sky；　the　lake；　and　the　distant　hills；　then　came　in；　lay　down

composedly　in　his　place；　and　in　a　few　minutes　ceased　to　breathe。



If　we　would　hardly　care　to　live　like　Indians；　after　all　（and　Tanner

tired　of　it　and　came　back；　an　old　man；　to　the　States）；　we　might

desire　to　die　like　Pe…shau…ba；　if；　like　him；　we　had　been　〃good　and

kind　to　God's　children　whom　we　meet　below。〃　　So　here　is　a　Christmas

moral　for　you；　out　of　a　Red　Indian　book；　and　I　wish　you　a　merry

Christmas　and　a　happy　New　Year。







APPENDIX　I







Reynolds's　Peter　Bell。



When　the　article　on　John　Hamilton　Reynolds　（〃A　Friend　of　Keats〃）　was

written；　I　had　not　seen　his　〃Peter　Bell〃　（Taylor　and　Hessey；　London；

1888）。　　This　〃Lyrical　Ballad〃　is　described　in　a　letter　of　Keats's

published　by　Mr。　Sidney　Colvin　in　Macmillan's　Magazine；　August；

1888。　　The　point　of　Reynolds's　joke　was　to　produce　a　parody　before

the　original。　　Reynolds　was　annoyed　by　what　Hood　called　〃The　Betty

Foybles〃　of　Wordsworth；　and　by　the　demeanour　of　a　poet　who　was

serious；　not　only　in　season；　but　out　of　season。　　Moreover；

Wordsworth　had　damned　〃a　pretty　piece　of　heathenism〃　by　Keats；　with

praise　which　was　faint　even　from　Wordsworth　to　a　contemporary。　　In

the　circumstances；　as　Wordsworth　was　not　yet　a　kind　of　solemn　shade；

whom　we　see　haunting　the　hills；　and　hear　chanting　the　swan　song　of

the　dying　England；　perhaps　Reynolds's　parody　scarce　needs　excuse。

Mr。　Ainger　calls　it　〃insolent；〃　meaning　that　it　has　an　unkind　tone

of　personal　attack。　　That　is；　unluckily；　true；　but　to　myself　the

par