Life, which ought to be a blessing to all, was to
them one of untold value; for it was a short journey to a better land--a
translation from the yet unfelt cares of earth to the bright and endless
joys of heaven.
Opposite the Fort is Pilot Knob, a high peak, used as a burial-place by
the Indians; just below it is the village of Mendota, or the "Meeting of
the Waters."
But to me, the greatest objects of interest and curiosity were the
original owners of the country, whose teepees could be seen in every
direction. One could soon know all that was to be known about Pilot Knob
or St. Anthony's falls; but one is puzzled completely to comprehend the
character of an Indian man, woman, or child. At one moment, you see an
Indian chief raise himself to his full height, and say that the ground
on which he stands is his own; at the next, beg bread and pork from an
enemy. An Indian woman will scornfully refuse to wash an article that
might be needed by a white family--and the next moment, declare that she
had not washed her face in fifteen years! An Indian child of three years
old, will cling to its mother under the walls of the Fort, and then
plunge into the Mississippi, and swim half way across, in hopes of
finding an apple that has been thrown in.
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