The Life History and Travels of Kah-ge-ga-gah-bowh, 1847

Chapter XIII

About the 4th of November, I took my leave of Boston, for the great commercial emporium, on my route homewards. My travelling companion was the Rev. E. Taylor, the sailor’s friend. He was on his way to Philadelphia to preach. I should suppose that a better sailor’s preacher cannot be found in the Union. I was much pleased with his conversation. In one of his public addresses, I was told that he said, “When I die, smother me not under the dust; but bury me in the sea, where the sea-weed will be my winding sheet, the coral my coffin, and the sea shell my tomb stone.” I heard an individual say of him, “start him where you will, he will go to sea.”

I was now, once more, in the magnificent city of New York. I bought a few books at the Book Rooms. After surveying the beauties and curiosities of the city, I left in the steamboat Rochester for Albany. I spent one day in Albany, and attended a Methodist prayer meeting. The Rev. Mr. Seymour, the preacher in charge at the Division street Station, introduced me to Brother Page, who had the charge of the South Ferry street Church. At the latter church I was present at a delightful and soul-stirring meeting.

The following day I took the canal for Syracuse and Oswego. On my way from Schenectady to Utica I preached twice on board the boat; and even here I found some pious souls. I observed the tears falling from several eyes. The Lord be praised,” was the language of my heart. When shall this poor heart feel fully and wholly alive to the unsurpassed favors of heaven?

I took a steamboat at Oswego, and arrived at Kingston, C. W., on the evening of Nov. 11. Here I had to pay duties on the books which I had obtained in New York. The amount to be paid was $32.50, and I had but $27. I went to Charles Oliver, Deputy Collector; and as soon as I laid my circumstances before him, he said, “pay the $27, and I will advance you the balance; and as soon as you reach home, write to Mr. McCaulay, the Inspector General, who lives in Toronto, and inform him who you are; he will, doubtless, authorize me to refund you the money.” I did so, and shortly afterwards received the whole amount. In this public way I would express my most hearty thanks to these gentlemen for their acts of kindness towards an Indian stranger.

I arrived at Rice Lake on the 12th day of November, 1839, having been absent from home five years and four months. Never did I feel so rejoiced as when I stood on the top of a hill, and saw my village, seven miles across the lake. I gazed upon it with pure delight; and as I took a retrospective view of all the scenes which I had passed through, I wondered at myself, and at the great goodness of God. I knelt down and “blessed and thanked Him who liveth for ever,” for his unspeakable goodness to a child of sin. While crossing the lake, I was in perfect ecstacies; my heart leaped with joy; and my thoughts and emotions were at my home long before my person. O how tedious and tardy the boat seemed to be; I wished for wings several times. But at last, I planted my foot upon the spot on which I had been reared from my infancy, and where some of the sweetest and happiest recollections of my life were centered. But “every sweet has it bitter.” quiring for some of my relatives, I was informed that they had left this, for a better life. Many of my old friends and acquaintances had gone to try the realities of another world. Numbers were bathed in tears, and the wounds of their hearts were re-opened. My own heart seemed to bleed at every pore. What a painful interview! I now requested to be shown the graves of my dear relatives and friends. I wended my way to these consecrated grounds, and sighed and wept over them. My reflections were solemn indeed! I followed many of them, in my thoughts, to heaven, whither they doubtless now are, celebrating the praises of God around the throne of the blessed Redeemer. This was great consolation amidst my griefs; and I felt now determined, with God’s assistance, to follow them, so far as they followed Christ, and thus be prepared to unite with them in the songs of the upper world, whenever God shall see fit to call me hence.

Brother John Sunday, was at this time, stationed in our village. The Lord soon visited this Mission with a glorious revival; many were converted, and others reclaimed. The tracts that I had received at the Book Rooms, and the books from the American Tract Society (V. Y.,) I distributed among those that could read, and they were duly appreciated. I believe that these were the means which prepared their minds to relinquish the world, and place their hope in God.

I will now speak of Christmas and New Year. When Christmas arrived, we were invited to a centenary tea party, in company with the Rev. William Case, the well known friend of the Indians. The party met at Alderville, eight miles from the Mission. This was a season of much joy and happiness. The Chiefs referred to the time when they were without the gospel. One of thein said, “Before I heard the gospel, when Christmas came, I began to thank the Great Spirit for the day on which I could get plenty of whiskey. Brothers, you know how often I was dragged through the snow to my wigwam, where my wife and children were cold and hungry. Now, I drink tea instead of whiskey, and have religion with it; row my house is comfortable; and my children are pious and happy. I expect to pursue a Christian course till I arrive in heaven. My fond hope is to meet these good missionaries in the land of bliss; and not only these, but also the good John Wesley, with whom I expect to shake hands there.” John Sunday’s brother (Big Jacob,) said, “When the Methodists were preaching to our people, I heard that the chiefs and warriors were frequently in tears. I then said, I would not shed tears were I to hear them. Still, I wished to understand for myself. I went, with a full determination not to behave myself like a woman, I mean by crying. I sat near the door. The preacher was speaking about the Saviour’s dying on the cross, while the Indians all around were sobbing. I began to feel serious, and then the tears fell involuntarily. Frequently I wiped my eyes, but still the tears would flow. I asked myself, am I crying too? Brethren, I was ashamed to exhibit tears; but now [here he raised his hand to heaven] it is not through cowardice that I cry, for I never shed a tear on the battle field, nor even when my children or my friends lay dead before me. No! I never dropped a tear. I feel to-night very happy and thankful to know that the Great Spirit did not, while I was in darkness, say, ‘I will never bless this Indian.’ I feel an ardent love for you all. I love Jesus, who has done so much for sinful me.” He then sat down; Brother John Sunday now arose, and interpreted what his brother had just said; and at the close of his remarks, he turned to the whites, who had come here from Cobourg, and several other places, and said, “Brothers, that was a great big mercy, for that great big man.”

I might add other cases here, but it is scarcely necessary. Suffice it to say that we enjoyed the services throughout. As I looked around, I recognized some, whom I knew, and bad often seen before the gospel reached us, and who had usually spent Christmas in the gutter,—degraded, miserable, and starving. The language of the Psalmist might well have been quoted by each of these poor brethren: “Thou hast raised me up out of the filthiest sink (English translation, ‘the miry clay,’) and hast planted my feet firmly on a rock.” Yes, the rock Christ Jesus.

New Year’s day was observed in the same religious manner. And I cannot but remark here, that it is to be greatly regretted that so many Christians in the States spend this day in gadding about from house to house, and indulging in luxuries to excess. Nay, more; I have been informed that not a few professors entertain their visitors with fire-water or devil’s spittle, on that day. What a contradiction this would be in the estimation of converted Indians, were they to witness these scenes.

During the winter, the General Council of the Nation was held at the Credit River Mission. Chief Joseph Sawyer was elected President of the Council. This noble chief has filled the chair several times since, with great credit. Several petitions, and other important documents were drawn up and signed by the different chiefs, to be presented to the Government of Canada. The whole Council waited on the Governor General, Lord Sydenham, in a body; they presented their petitions (see Note A, at the end of this chapter.) In reply, we received but little satisfaction; he closed his note, by saying, “My children, for the present, I bid you all farewell.” His Lordship did not even deign to affix his name to the note. Since then, nothing has been heard of our papers, and therefore we must conclude that they have been laid under the table. But what could be expected of a “father,” who could smile in the presence of his “children,” and yet stab them in the dark? See note B, at the close of the chapter, where the reader may find an extract from his letter to Lord John Russell. To rebut his false representations, I would appeal to the Report of the Commissioners on Indian Affairs in Canada; to the missionaries; and to the whole civilized and Christianized population of the Chippewa nation. I can therefore say, without the fear of respectable contradiction, that his assertions have no foundation in truth. A few drunken Indians, it is true, may be found in Canada; and these alone, would be willing to call him Father.

It was at this General Council that I became acquainted with Captain Howell’s family, of Toronto, formerly of England, and after an intimate acquaintance of some six months, I was united in marriage to his daughter Elizabeth. My wife has been a help, meet indeed; she has shared my woes, my trials, my privations; and has faithfully labored to instruct and assist the poor Indians, whenever an opportunity occurred. I often feel astonished when I reflect upon what she has endured, considering that she does not possess much physical strength. I can truly say that she has willingly partaken of the same cup that I have, although that cup has often contained gall. I trust, that I have not transgressed the bounds of delicacy, in speaking of one who has sacrificed so much in becoming the partner of an Indian missionary. I will simply add, that Mr. and Mrs. Howell, and their daughters Caroline and Elizabeth, were then, and are now, members of the Methodist Church,

In the spring which preceded my marriage, I was appointed by my people at Rice Lake, to transact some business for them at Toronto. I accordingly left Rice Lake and reached Toronto in April. Just before leaving for Rice Lake, I called to see my cousin, Thomas Kezhig, who was confined to his house by consumption. While on my journey homewards, between Toronto and Port Hope, as I was sleeping on one of the sofas of the steamboat, I had the following singular dream in relation to my cousin above mentioned:—

I found myself in a path on a wide plain, which led towards the south, between two cottages. I was impressed with a belief that it was my duty to proceed to the end of the road, which, from appearances, great multitudes had walked over. On nearing the cottages, I discovered a small gate, attended by a keeper. At first, he refused me an entrance, but after much persuasion, he permitted me to pass, extorting from me a promise, to return as soon as I should reach a certain spot, from which I could see the end of the path. I passed through the gate and traveled over a beautiful rolling country, with groves, flowers, and fruits, on my right and on my left, which delighted my eyes; while the singing of birds delighted my ears. I walked through several streams which ran smoothly over beds of beautiful pebbles. From one of these streams I drank, and felt much refreshed. In some places, I saw the impress of men’s feet on the pebbles, which proved that persons had gone before me. Some time after this, I heard several voices conversing about the country to which they were traveling. I ascended a hill, from which I beheld a scene which no language can describe. In front was a large granite rock, in the form of a pyramid; it was exceedingly high; had seats on each side from the bottom to the top; and on these, sat a great multitude who had died in the Lord. Here and there was a vacant seat. Some, however, were standing, and all had a pair of wings. Those that were sitting, had wings, and seemed ready to fly! On the very summit, and above the rest, there was a spacious seat, or magnificent throne. One sat on this throne who shone like the sun! Over his crowned head was a circle, resembling a rainbow, on which was written, with letters of gold, “THIS IS THE King Jesus.” What a splendid sight! it dazzled my eyes. Above his head were clouds of angels; these were performing beautiful gyrations, Sometimes they descended so low, that I plainly could see the upper side of their wings, which reflected a brilliant light from the throne. I did not hear them speak, but there was a noise like a mighty rushing wind, occasioned by their wings, which were constantly in motion. There were myriads upon myriads of these winged angels; the very heavens were covered with them. I observed between me and this great rock, river, part of which was as black as jet, and the rest as yellow as gold. It flowed gracefully along the edge of the beautiful green, near the rock. I saw two men plunge into its bosom, and swim. As soon as they reached the spot where the water was black, their clothes fell off of them, and were carried away by the current; while they themselves reached the shore on the opposite side. They now assumed forms too glorious for tongue or pen to describe; even imagination must fail here. They now seemed to rise up out of the river; and as they stood upon its bed, with their long white wings majestically expanded and dripping, they clapped their hands and exclaimed, “Glory to God in the highest; glory and honor to Jesus.” They now stepped out of the stream, walked side by side, and ascended to their seats midway up the rock! While they were ascending, the entire multitude cheered and welcomed them. “Glory to God,” “Hallelulah,” with many other exclamations, were echoed in loud peals thoughout the whole region. My eyes wept big burning tears, which overflowed my face. I tried to join the happy throng in ejaculating halleluiah; and made several fruitless attempts to cross the river. I felt as if I were fettered, and fastened to a stake. Presently, I heard the sound of footsteps behind me; I turned around suddenly, and beheld my cousin Thomas Kezhig, passing along. I addressed him, and said, “Where are you going, cousin?” He replied, “I am going where my mother and sister have gone; but you must return home soon, for you are needed there; you will one day follow us to the skies.” I exerted myself to approach him, but in vain. He turned about, ran down the hill to the water, plunged in, and swam like a duck. His clothes now fell off of him, as did those of the two individuals referred to above. I saw him rise; he exclaimed, “Glory to Jesus!” Some one exclaimed from the rock, “Thomas Kezhig is come, Thomas Kezhig is come.” Immediately, two flew from their seats, and presented themselves before him, near the edge of the water. They embraced each other, and clapped their wings, as if filled with joy. O what a happy, happy scene! The immense throng of angelic beings witnessed this sight, and lowered their flight. Those on the rock, now stood up at his approach, and flapped their wings. The two who had flown to him, led him by the hand to a seat. Every eye was now upon and the whole heavens seemed to echo, “Welcome to thy rest, thou child of affliction.” I recognized in these two, his mother and sister, who had died a few years before, with a hope full of glory. I could have given worlds for permission to cross the river. I wept sorely, and felt it incumbent to return, according to my promise, to the keeper of the gate. The keeper inquired, “well did you see them?” But my heart was too full to give utterance to my thoughts. I now awoke, much agitated, and still weeping. I looked at my watch, and discovered that it was a quarter past one o’clock, P. M.

In the evening I met one of my step-brothers at Port Hope; he had just arrived. The first words that he uttered, were, “Our cousin is no more.” I inquired, “When did he die?” He replied, “To-day, about one o’clock.” “Then,” said I, “he is happy in the realms of bliss.” The next day, as I stooped over his cold remains, I could still see his glorified spirit as in my dream, welcomed to the land of angels. O! “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” I loved him tenderly, and had good reason to believe that he also loved me. My readers will, I trust, excuse me for having inflicted upon them this dream. It is even now so vivid in my recollection, and being somewhat curious and peculiar, that I have ventured to give it. It is but a dream, and I wish it to go for what it is worth, and no more.

I left Toronto for the west, on the third of June, and arrived at Buffalo the same evening, just in time to fulfil an engagement. I was to address the Sunday School Missionary Society at the Methodist Episcopal Church. I was obliged to leave Mrs. Copway at Toronto, as she was not quite prepared to depart; but the following day she met me in Buffalo. Here the brethren prevailed on us to stay over the Sabbath. Sabbath morning I preached at Black Rock, and in Buffalo in the evening. What a curious, inquisitive, and teasing people, some of the Yankees are! Yet, they are very friendly withal, for every one seemed to be striving to induce us to go to their homes to take tea and to pass the night. I had been married but a few days, and the following were some of the questions put to me:- “How did you obtain your wife?” “Where were you married?” “Did her father consent?” “How many of your people have married our white women?” These and similar inquiries were constantly made, and were exceedingly annoying. But notwithstanding all this, I could say “farewell dear friends of Buffalo; thank you for your kindness, your good wishes, and your prayers. Farewell Sister Dobson, Brother M., and Brother Vanderpool” —a noble hearted and whole-souled man.

On the 7th of June, we parted with my wife’s sister, Caroline, who had come with my wife from Toronto as far as Buffalo. We were soon sailing on Lake Erie. On the 8th we were in Cleveland. Here we were obliged to stop, as the regular boat was engaged to convey persons to the great Whig Convention at Fort Meigs. But we passed a very agreeable time, however, especially with Mr. and Mrs. Peet. On the 12th, an opportunity offered by which we could go as far as Amherstburg, on our way to Detroit. The steamboat Milwaukie stopped at Cleveland on her route upwards and on board of her we went. Soon we fell in with Rev. John Clark, who was on his way from the General Conference to Chicago, in company with Rev. Mr. Colclazier, of Detroit. It was my design to preach on board, but was prevented on account of the rolling of the boat, which caused much sea-sickness, and our early arrival at Amherstburg. Here we staid one week, and passed many happy hours, especially with Sister Scott. From Amherstburg we went to Detroit. On the 18th we started from Detroit for Mackinaw, on board the steamboat Robert Fulton, which place we reached on the 20th; here we remained a few days with B. Chapman, Esq. Here I heard of the death of one of our traders, Lavaque, a pious man and a particular friend. I preached his funeral sermon, and then his remains were consigned to the grave. Many wept on this occasion, for he was much beloved. Mrs. Copway was now suffering from chills and fever, which she first contracted at Toronto. On the 23d, we took passage on board the steamboat Fairport, and arrived at Green Bay early the next morning. Mrs. Copway’s indisposition induced me to remain here until she should feel better. Brother Chenoworth, the stationed preacher, was absent, and it devolved on me to fill his pulpit on the Sabbath. We had a most interesting season in waiting on the Lord. Mrs. Copway’s fevers continued three weeks, and when it was thought that she had recovered, we took land carriage to Prairie Du Chien. But before we had gone many miles, she was again seized with chills and fever, and we were obliged to tarry at the house of a Mr. McCarty. His family were kind, and would not receive any compensation for their trouble. I now proposed to Mrs. C. to return to Green Bay, but she would not consent, saying, that as we had started, it were better to keep on. Every other day she had the fever. O how it distressed me to witness her affliction. We passed through the villages of the Stockbrige and Brother Town Indians. Their lands are good, and it is to be hoped that they will continue to conduct themselves well.

On the 17th July, we arrived at Winnebago Lake, where we took dinner with Brother White. After leaving this place, we had to kindle up a fire in the groves several times, in order to cook something for breakfast, and for the rest of the day; there being no settlers within twenty miles. Some men seem to have come to these “diggings” only for the purpose of defrauding travellers out of their goods and money. For every slim and dirty meal, we had to pay fifty cents. There is a house between Fort Winnebago and Prairie Du Chien which I can never forget. We had to pay fifty cents for each meal (?); twenty-five cents for lodging in beds swarming with fleas and bugs. Sleep was out of the question; so I spent the hours of the night on the seat of what was called a chair. August 23d, we arrived at Prairie Du Chien, after much fatigue, having traveled ten days. Brother Kavanaugh had just arrived from St. Peters, and had us conveyed to Dubuque, in a canoe. Here Mrs. Copway remained, till I returned from the Conference, which was held at Mount Morris. From Dubuque we went to Prairie Du Chien, in a steamboat; on the 26th we were compelled to go in our canoe to St. Peters, on account of the shallowness of the river. Our company consisted of Brothers Spates, Huddleston, Brown, Jones, Mrs. Copway, her sister, and myself. We encamped, occasionally, on the banks of the Mississippi. We were more than two weeks traveling three hundred miles, to St. Peters. We had a tent which we pitched every night. On the 26th September, we had to mount the bluffs of the Mississippi river; here we found a number of Indian deities, made of stone. Mrs. Copway and her sister tumbled them all down into the river. Their worshippers must have been astounded and mortified when they returned, and discovered that their gods had vanished. On several occasions we were dripping wet. On the 9th of October we arrived at St. Peters; we here had the happiness and privilege of associating with the Presbyterian missionaries three weeks; they were affectionate and truly kind to us. These were Brothers Garvin, Pond, Denton, and their wives. We had yet to journey nearly three hundred miles. After some delay in getting ready, we started in our canoe. On the 27th of October we went about fifteen miles up the river; on the 28th we could proceed no farther on account of the ice. Now what was to be done? If the winter sets in, while we are on our journey, we shall have to suffer much. We therefore concluded to go by land to Elk River mission. On the 19th we hired a Frenchman to convey our things in his cart. It being late when we started, we walked but five miles the first day; we really dreaded the journey. On the thirtieth, while we were crossing the Rice River, the cart was upset; our provisions and clothes were filled with water; and many of our things were floating down the river. I made a fire, and we passed the rest of the day in drying our articles; fortunately, not one of us was in the cart. Mrs. Copway exhibited much patience and fortitude; she reproved us for murmuring, on account of this and other mishaps; and laughed, while our pies and cakes were sailing down the river. On the 31st we walked the whole day, and reached Rum River,-called so, because a barrel of rum had been concealed there. It would be too tedious to narrate all the circumstances connected with the rest of our journey.

On the 6th of November we arrived at the Mission, having traveled, in all, about two thousand and eighty miles. The Indians had fled from this mission, on account of their enemies, the Sioux, whom they dreaded. Here, then, we had no employment; no one to instruct! We now endured much suffering. I was taken sick with the dysentery, and remained so four months, although, occasionally, I could move about. Brother Huddleston, also, became sick; he was taken on the 25th of December, and died on the 30th, of dysentery. This was truly a time of trial. We buried him near the banks of the Mississippi, on New Year’s day. He had come here to do good; but O how inscrutable are the ways of God! The chief of the Ojebwas had now arrived; and addressed us in the following language:—

“Brothers, I am sorry to see you all in such afflicting circumstances. I see that you loved him; and from what little I saw and knew of him, I believe he was a good man. He came here to do us good—to teach our children. You ask me where you shall bury your Brother. I will tell you. Bury him on that little hill [pointing to it,] so that we may see his grave as we pass up and down the river. I will tell my people to keep the grave in good order, and to respect it. No grass shall be allowed to grow too near it; we will see that it is weeded. Next summer, I will build a heap of stones about it; that all may see and know where the good man lies—he, who came to bless us. Tell his father that the Sioux, our enemies, will not molest his remains.”

This chief was not a pious man. Three of his warriors, now went to the hill, cleared away the snow, and dug the grave according to our directions. mitted his lifeless body to the cold grave in a strange land! I never knew how much I loved him, until he was gone. Filled with tears, sobs, and sighs, Brother Spates performed the last sad office, over the remains of our dearly beloved brother, while the rude blast was blowing the snow in every direction. Just before he died, he admonished and entreated us to meet him in heaven, where he assured us he was going. “Blessed are the dead, that die in the Lord.”

The chief now invited us to go and reside with him at Rabbit River; and, in February, we did so, after having traveled three days. During these three days, however, we had often to shovel away the snow, build a fire, and spread the bedding without any tent over it. We awoke one morning, and found the snow two inches deep on the bed clothes. We built a large fire, by which we warmed ourselves and boiled some coffee. Our bread was frozen; but we thawed it, and made a meal. When this was over, off we started. By the way, I ought to have mentioned that I had a poney for Mrs. Copway and her sister, on which they could ride. Through the winter he lived on rushes, and browsed like a deer. The poor fellow had to give out, about two miles before we reached Rabbit River; Mrs. Copway, therefore, had to walk this distance on the ice, which greatly fatigued her. On Saturday night quite late, we arrived at the shanty of Chief Hole-in-the-sky. In all our journeyings Mrs. C. was always ready and willing to endure every hardship. She never murmured nor appeared discontented. This often encouraged me, and afforded us much relief. I record with gratitude, that God enabled her and her sister to bear up under the severest trials and hardships. We could have no earthly gain in view; the grace of God alone, therefore, supported us by day and by night, in sickness, in perils, in storms, in fatigues, in despondency, and in solitary places. At Rabbit River we labored with considerable success; but on account of the war raging between the Sioux and the Ojebwas, these two missions, with that at Ottawa Lake, had to be abandoned.


“1st. The soil at the Credit is generally very poor, and, consequently, the crops are light, and this, in a great measure, discourages our people from becoming good farmers. The situation of the Credit Reserve is better calculated for commercial than agricultural purposes.

“2nd. We have learned, by experience, that living together in a village, whilst endeavoring to follow farming, is attended with many disadvantages, and loss of time; it is therefore desirable, that all the Indians who wish to become planters should be settled on their own lots.

“3rd. The evil example of many of the white people around our village, exposes our people to the temptation of drinking fire-water, and of committing other vices.

“4th. We are of opinion, that, if we go and settle on a good tract of land, many of our young men, who are now spending their time in idleness, would be induced to become industrious, and attend to their farming.”


“Kingston, 22nd July, 1841.

“I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your despatch of the 1st instant, No. 393, on the subject of the Indian Department in Canada. I beg to assure your Lord. ship that I have given the subject my attentive consideration, and I hope to be able to submit for your approval a scheme for the consolidation of the Department. At the same time the matter is attended with great difficulty, arising from the peculiarity of the duties which the officers of the Department have to perform, the extent of country comprised within their jurisdiction, and, above all, from the system pursued with regard to the Indians, which, in my opinion, is of the most mistaken character. All my observation has completely satisfied me, that the direct interference of the Government is only advantageous to the Indians who can still follow their accustomed pursuits, and that if they became settlers, they should be compelled to fall into the ranks of the rest of Her Majesty’s subjects, exercising the same independent control over their own property and their own actions, and subject to the same general laws as other citizens.

“The attempt to combine a system of pupilage with the settlement of these people in civilized parts of the country, leads only to embarrassment to the Government, expense to the Crown, a waste of the resources of the Province, and an injury to the Indians themselves. Thus circumstanced, the Indian loses all the good qualities of his wild state, and acquires nothing but the vices of civilization. He does not become a good settler, he does not become an agriculturist or a mechanic. He does become a drunkard and a debauchee, and his females and family follow the same course. He occupies valuable land, unprofitably to himself and injuriously to the country. He gives infinite trouble to the Government, and adds nothing either to the wealth, the industry, or the defence of the Province.

“I have, &c.


“The Right Honorable
“Lord J. RUSSELL.”


Icon for the Public Domain license

This work (The Life History and Travels of Kah-ge-ga-gah-bowh, 1847 by George Copway) is free of known copyright restrictions.