Digging Indian Relics

When the first white men arrived in the area of the farm in the early 1600's, the Huron Indians already lived, fought and farmed right where our farm became located in the early 1900's. The French explorers (Champlain and Brule) soon brought out the Jesuit priests to convert the "savages". They were somewhat successful, unfortunarely, they unknowingly spread the white mans European diseases against which the Indian had no immunity. This killed off many Indians and so weakened the tribe that their traditional enemies, the Iroquios, from south of lake Ontario were able to defeat them. During the last battles, the Iroquios martyred two of the priests (fathers Bebrouf & Lalemont) by tying them to a stake and burning them alive. They spiced up the event by placing red hot hatchet heads around their necks like necklaces. After this, the remaining Hurons escaped by water and settled several hundred miles away near Sault Ste. Marie. The Jesuits returned to France, the Iroquios back to what would become USA. For over 150 years after this event the area was virtually vacant of humans.

Evidence of the old Indian villages was easily detected by the blackened earth from their campfires that showed up when our fields were ploughed. There were at least 3 such sites on our farm. Most farmers ignored the sites, but my oldest brother took a keen interest in the tobacco pipes, arrowheads, beading, pottery etc. and he accumulated a large collection of these relics. He also did some research of the detailed records left by the Jesuits. Taking their descriptions of Indian village locations and using an arial map of the area, he was able to come up with the approximate location of the villages. His hobby became the actual finding of the villages by way of pick and shovel. He located 16 villages, many not in farmers fields, but in the bush. The latter were the best for finding artifacts as they had not been disturbed by the plow.

Many years after leaving the farm, I would,when visiting on a week-end, accompany my brother on one of his "digs". We would carefully clear off the surface debris and using shovels and trowels, sift through the soil to a depth of about one foot, or until the earth was no longer black from the long ago fires. I guess we were essentially digging through the Indian's garbage of broken tools and containers. Can you imagine the feelings of the Indian whose finely-crafted pinch- face tobacco pipe somehow got broken? (he threw the damn thing into the fire). Most of our finds would be nondescript pieces of broken pottery, animal bones etc. Once in a while, a fine piece would be located and the trip would be declared a success.

My best find was what appears to be some sort of idol in the form of a person crouching on his hands and knees. Aside from being something completely different from all the other artifacts in form, and material, it is carved from some kind of stone that is foreign to the area. Archeologists who have seen it lick their lips in anticipation of somehow obtaining the piece from me. They all say the piece appears to be of a soapstone substance similar to that used by the eskimo and would have to have been traded through many hands to arrive in Huronia before the year 1600

My brothers collection grew until it rivaled The Toronto Museum's. Unfortunately, he met a smooth American trader who wheedled many of his best artifacts in exchange for material goods i.e. movie camera, projector, fine fishing rod etc. (just like other white men traded trinkets with Indians years ago for fine furs and even land). After his death, his remaining collection went to my nephew who is keeping it in good care.

In addition to the above described rare piece, I also have the remains of my friend Aggie's family collection (see blog--Neighbour) . This past year the curator of the Huronia Museum made a valiant effort to obtain this small collection from me, going so far as sending me a $200 heritage receipt for tax purposes in exchange for a few tiny pottery shards I gave him instead of throwing them out for cluttering the bottom of my box. At that rate, the whole collection must be almost invaluable.

Next--The Soldier

"he who comes with a story
to you brings two away
from you"

Irish proverb