Lake Vermilion’s First American Tourist

An Interesting Trip.
Where No White Man Had Ever Gone Before.

by Thomas M. Newson

Originally published in Thrilling Scenes Among the Indians, 1884

In the year 1865, when on the north boundary line of the United States, I met an Indian who attached himself to me as my necarnis, or best friend, and who desired that I should go with him some forty miles from that point, to examine what he claimed was a bed of coal; so, asking him how much, and receiving the reply, “$50,” I consented to give it, and began preparations for the journey. It was winter, and Vermilion lake was frozen over, so that my “shebang,” as I called it consisting of a horse and covered sled, could easily make the trip. The Indian was to meet me some distance from the camp, so as not to excite the suspicion of our exploring party, and in the morning, bright and early, myself and Porter, the interpreter, started out, and soon Nar-go-ba-da was seen in the distance, awaiting our coming. Indian-like, he wanted a gallon of “scoot-a-wa-boo,” or whiskey before he would budge an inch. I positively declined to give him this, but I told him that I would give him a drink then, and as the fatigue of the journey increased, he should have more; so, satisfied, he gave the lead, and we followed. It was a crisp, bright, sharp winter morning, and the wide expanse of the frozen lake stretched out before us.

Nar-go-ba-da loomed up ahead; I followed; Porter was behind. When about eight miles from our point of departure, I was startled with the vision behind me of a large body of men and horses following our trail, and the more I looked the more distant they became. “Porter! for heaven’s sake,” I asked, “What is… [Read More]