Poor, unfortunate Indians! they trample on treasures, unconscious of their worth, and content themselves with the fishery and chase. When these resources fail, they subsist upon roots and herbs; whilst they eye, with tranquil surprise, the white man examining the shining pebbles of their territory. Ah! they would tremble, indeed, could they learn the history of those numerous and ill-fated tribes that have been swept from their land, to make place for Christians who have made the poor Indians the victims of their rapacity. After a few days' journey we arrived at the Prairie du Tabac, the usual abode of the Koetenays.[101] Their camp is situated in an immense and delightful valley, bounded by two eminences, which, from their gentle and regular declivity, covered with {126} smooth pebbles, appear to have originally bounded an extensive lake.
On my arrival, I found about thirty lodges of Koetenays; hunger had forced many families to cross the great mountain. They came in quest of the buffalo, elk, antelope, and stag. I was received with every demonstration of joy and filial affection by those who remained in the lodges. They hailed me with a long and boisterous discharge of musketry. Several showed me their journal, consisting of a square stick on which they had notched the number of days and weeks elapsed since I abode with them in the neighborhood of the great lake Teteplatte.[102] They had computed forty-one months and some days.
